The Sharpest Lives
by fallfromreality
Summary: Instead of going to the gender reveal party, Jane goes home and seemingly disappears. The team has to confront their feelings and actions as they search for her. Will they be able to find her? Or will they be too late? -On hiatus-
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! So this has been an idea circling around in my head for the past few weeks but I finally decided to get it down on paper. This will be a multi-chapter fic. AT the moment I'm imagining ten, but who knows it might end up more or less.

Fair warning there will be a bit of Jane-angst but I promise it will be temporary! This is meant to be a story with a hopefully happyish ending. So bear with me J

Jane's sitting in her car outside of Weller's apartment, watching as people, some she knew and some she didn't, walk in. All of them smiling, carrying little gifts, and exchanging greets as they bump into others heading in the same direction.

She watched but she made no move to get out of her car. No move to join those happy smiling people going onto a happy, joyful evening. An evening where they would be surrounded by friends and family. Celebrating a moment in life so precious.

They would be celebrating the life she had imagined herself living only months ago. She tried to bury the thought as she continued to watch these peoples. She wondered if the party had started. IF Kurt and Allie were greeting the guests as they arrived with smiles and laughs. Wondered if Allies boyfriend had gotten the chance to meet Kurt yet. Or if Naz lingered close behind him, watching in that eerie silent way of hers.

But for all her wonderings, she knew, sitting out there that she didn't belong here on such a night. She hadn't been wanted. Hadn't been invited. She knew Kurt only invited her out of pity. His words seemed hollow forced, and within them another reminder that she didn't belong. Not like she used to. _I'd miss you Jane, I never thought I'd would say that again._

He'd said the words as if he were giving her a holy gift. As if that alone with fix everything between them, and maybe for a moment it did. She wouldn't deny she'd become isolated, depressed, and desperate for something to hold onto. So to hear Kurt, of all people, admit that he might still care. For a moment it had felt like the very lifeline she had been looking for.

But then reality sunk in, as he landed another fell blow, his words seem to say that she didn't truly deserve his affection.

She knew it to be true.

She deserved nothing but to spend the rest of her life in a hole. She knew for certain that would be her fate. One way or another, he would find her again and bring her back to the hell he'd kept her in for three months.

Sometimes she almost swore she felt his eyes watching her late at night when she walked into her apartment. Or walking into work before the sun started to rise. She knew from Dr. Borden's speeches that she more than likely had PTSD. He assured her that given her circumstances it would be shocking if she hadn't suffered some trauma. But she never said anything more than the bare minimum. The florescent lights, the cool metal beneath her and the atmosphere trapped her in memories she'd rather forget.

But she'd googled the words anyway. Paranoia seemed to be a common symptom of PTSD. So she simply chalked her feeling up to that.

Not that it mattered either way. Just another fucked up thing to add to the list of fucked up things in her life.

She shook herself though, these days it seemed too easy to fall into her thoughts. Too many things going on and too little time to deal with any of them.

So, she decided that she wouldn't get out of the car to sit awkward and out of place surrounded by strangers or people who had becomes strangers to her. Not to satisfy Kurt's guilt or anyone else's. For once she made a decision for herself.

Instead she put her car in reverse and drove herself back home.

When she arrived she ignored the nagging feeling that someone eyes were on her. Paranoia after all shouldn't be fed into.

She simply got out of her car, and walked up the stairs and into her apartment.

As she entered, she felt the same weight fall onto her shoulders that she did every night. The empty and impersonal grey walls fed into her isolation. Here, she had no distractions, nothing but her memories. Every time she entered it seemed harder and harder to remember that she'd ever had good ones. Torture, murder, betrayals those were the images conjured by her mind every waking moment she spent her.

But like everything else she knew it to be only what she deserved. So she put on her tough face, and braved the open animosity and spit at the office. Then every night she came her and enacted her own punishment.

God, it's no wonder she can't sleeps at night.

Maybe if she hadn't of been so wrapped up in her thoughts. So confused by the whirlwind of events that day or any number of tiny seemingly insignificant things. She would have seen it coming.

But she doesn't.

When she feels the delicate pinch of a needle and watches her world go black. Well, it's as surprising as the night she walked into her apartment to find Kurt there waiting not to hold her but to cuff her.

Funny how her world always seems to end in that living room


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! I was so glad to see that so many of you enjoyed the story! Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and follows! I hope to hear some more from you guys! Positive or negative feedback is what keeps up writers writing!

This chapter is from Kurts POV, but next chapter we will hear from Jane! I'm planning on alternating chapters for the rest of the story. Though it won't always be Kurts POV, I'm hoping to cycle through a few other members of the team or even have combo POV chapters. So let me know if there is anyone in particular you'd like to hear from :)

Kurt couldn't believe how perfect this night shaped up to be. He's surrounded by all the people he cares about, his friends, his coworkers who might as well have been family, his sister, Allie and Naz were both here and getting along.

Soon he would find out whether they were having a girl or a boy. He hoped it'd be a girl but in truth he knew he'd love them either way. He never imagined that he would get to a place in life where he felt comfortable enough to have a family. Not after Taylor and everything that surrounded her.

But life hadn't given him the option and he couldn't be more grateful.

Yet in the back of his mind, he felt that something wasn't quite right. They were getting ready to start cutting the cake when he finally figured it out. Jane had never showed up. He scanned the room twice to make sure he hadn't missed her. She tended to cling to walls, and hide in corners these days. So it wouldn't be outside of the realm of possibility that she simply escaped his notice.

No, she hadn't simply escaped his notice, she truly hadn't come. For a second he felt something like betrayal coil in his gut. He'd invited her, hell he'd even gone out of his way to let her know that she cared and she'd even said she'd come. How could she not show?

Before he could he could form those thoughts into true anger a chant went up in the room distracting him, and her absence once again slunk to the bottom of his brain.

"Cut the Cake, Cut the Cake." Rang through the room, Allie and he exchanging looks before they smiled and gave into their friends desires.

Its not that he didn't care but he simply got caught up in the moment. He could deal with Jane another time.

As they cut the cake and pulled a piece out revealing a beautiful pink piece, Kurt couldn't contain his smile. He knew it would be a girl, so not only had he won himself some money but he had a second chance. This time he'd do things right. He'd protect her. She'd get to grow up the way Taylor never had. Get to life a life that she should have.

He wouldn't fail another woman he loved. He simply wouldn't.

After they'd cut the cake, and pieces were passed around, Allie cornered him in the kitchen a question burning in her eyes, "What?" he asked immediately. He knew better than to let that look go unquestioned with her.

"I thought you said you invited Jane? Is she not coming?" She asked, an odd look pulling across her face.

He had to look around to confirm her absence once again, as if she'd somehow materialized in the past few minutes "I did and she said she'd be here. Maybe she mixed the time up?"

Not as if he'd given her more than a two hour notice.

"Maybe," Allie hesitated, darting a glance around the room, "I guess I'd been hoping to get the chance to talk to her. To really thank her for everything she did for us." Her voice trailed off as her hands absently wrapped around her stomach. Her eyes searching the room, again finding it empty of the person in question.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, and Jane knows how grateful you-we are that she was there that day. I don't think you need to go out of your way," He told her, shrugging his shoulders. He'd ask Jane about it in the morning. In truth, he didn't want to think about Jane right now, she probably had her own reasons for not coming. It wasn't Kurt's place to hound her about it anymore. Maybe it never really had been.

"If you're sure," Allie replied, her tone and expression telling him exactly what she thought of that.

He sighed, "Allie, text her if you're so worried about it. I'm sure something just came up, Jane does have her own life."

"A. I don't have her number," She told him, eyes telling him that she blamed him for that little fact, "and B. I know that Jane is a _person_ , maybe if you'd let her know about the party when we first talked about it instead of two hours ago she would have shown up," Allie hissed, before heaving a sign and walking away from him muttering unintelligibly under her breath.

He did his best to avoid confrontation with Allie when they'd dated but now with the pregnancy he avoided it like the plague. So, he simply texted her Janes number, and gave her some space.

He'd seen Patterson, Zapata and Dr. Borden converge in a corner and decided to chat them up.

Within the space of a few minutes he'd managed to shove the conversation to the back of his mind and forget about it.

Losing himself easily among his friends and colleagues. And after they'd all gone he lost himself again in Naz's embrace. He'd been waiting for a moment alone with her since she found him in the bathroom during the party. He had a moment and then some.

He didn't think about Jane or his conversation with Allie until the next morning, when he arrived at work and found Jane's desk empty.

Odd. Since her return from the CIA, Jane had been at her desk before he arrived every single morning unless Roman summoned her to do Shepard's bidding.

He'd always thought about checking to see what time she arrived. Considering he himself showed up a full hours earlier than their required clock in time. But in the beginning he'd been too lost in anger and betray to care. Then it had simply become another part of his daily routine. No longer something to question.

But still he didn't do much more than let his gaze linger on her empty chair for a few seconds longer than usual. The anger that had started to form the other night hitting him full force. She's probably skulking around to avoid a confrontation with him. He still couldn't believe she'd skipped the party. He finally decides to extend her a hand and she refuses it. He didn't know why he's surprised.

Jane's never been who he thought she was. _She's done nothing but try to prove herself to you and the team. Maybe if you had treated her with an ounce of respect she would have come._ A tiny voice whispered to him, but he ignored it.

She hadn't earned the teams trust back. He hadn't made her do everything she'd done those months ago.

He forced himself to shake that steam of thought from his head. He didn't have time to deal with those feelings again. So he simply went about his normal routine, he had too much paperwork from the previous days shit show to think too hard on the matter.

He let himself get lost in paperwork, concentrating on that and only that until he heard a knock on his office door.

He looked up and saw Reade standing poised in front of his door, he gestured for the man to come in and waited for him to speak.

"Have you seen Jane? It almost ten and none of us have seen her," Reade seemed perplexed, maybe even worried.

"No, she wasn't in when I got here this morning," Kurt replied, "Have you tried calling her cell?"

"Patterson, and Zapata have both tried her cell at least three times in the past hour. They haven't gotten anything but the dial tone."

"See if Patterson can trace it, maybe Jane forgot to plug it in and overslept." But even as the words left his mouth his stomach sunk. Jane would never be so careless.

Reade nodded and left to relay his orders. Kurt picked up his own phone and dialed Jane's number. Just like the others he got a dial tone, after few moments the automated machine picked up. He waited for her old voicemail to place, a silly little thing that she and the team had recorded in the months prior to her betrayal. But instead the automated voice related the phone number he had failed to reach and the beep were the only things he heard.

For some reason that made him feel sick.

But he pushed those feelings aside and got up to head to the bullpen.

He collided with Patterson as he opened his door, and only just catching her before she hit the floor. "Are you okay?" He asked her, visually inspecting her for any injury, even as she confirmed herself to be unharmed.

"I traced Jane's cell, it looks like it still at her apartment, and I have a bad feeling about this Kurt. A really bad feeling," Patterson explained to him, he watched the tears collecting in the corner of her eyes. Patterson had been the only one he hadn't told about not inviting Jane before. He knew he was the only one to make any overtures to Jane in the past few months.

He didn't think he should be the one to comfort her, but he still patted her arm twice.

"We'll find her," He assured her, before he turned to the other two, "Reade, with me, we're going to go check on Jane. I'm sure it's nothing Patterson, even Jane is capable of sleeping in."

"Zapata, stay with Patterson, check the footage around the safe house. It's possible that Jane pulled in by sandstorm unexpectedly," Even as he said it he knew that couldn't be true. Jane never failed to alert them in some little way if sandstorm was involved.

Maybe something really had happened.

It felt like time crept to a standstill as he and Reade left the FBI building heading towards Jane's safe house.

It took them a little over fifteen minutes to get from point A to point B but it felt like a lifetime.

"Try her one more time before we go in," Kurt told Reade as they parked behind Jane's SUV. Her car's still here, but that didn't mean anything. Not with the life Jane currently led. Sandstorm could have picked her up. Any number of enemies from her past could have grabbed her.

Jane certainly didn't lack for enemies, for some people the tattoos on her body were cause enough to want her dead.

"Still nothing," Reade's voice broke him from his thoughts.

"Alright, let's move in," Kurt replied, already reaching for the door handle.

Jane existed as an FBI mole, a bureaucratic term for a tool, and so they all had keys to her apartment. No one had ever used them. But it made _some_ people feel better to have the access.

He knocked once on her door, and when he tried the knob. It turned and the door swung open. Reade and he exchanged quick looks, Jane would never have left her door unlocked. Too paranoid. Too cautious for such a slip up.

"Jane, are you here?" Kurt called into the empty apartment. He knew she wouldn't answer but he called again anyway.

"Jane, its Reade and Weller," Reade called his own greeting into the apartment but as he'd expected Jane's voice didn't ring out in response.

Kurt walked further into the apartment, turning his head to take it all in. Before everything, Jane's apartment had a life of its own. Over months she filled it with sketches and eccentric rugs. Mismatched mugs, and funky wine glasses always spattered across every surface.

But this place, this place seemed barren. Empty. The walls were the dull lifeless grey every safe house returned to when its occupants left. A single wooden chair occupied the corner of the living room, and what he could see of the kitchen seemed as bleak and empty as the living room.

"Is that Jane's phone?" Reade asked, and Kurt turned his gaze to the small hallway before the stairs. Reade had stooped down to crouch beside the phone that lay shattered on the floor. He could see Jane's keys laying on the floor direction across from the phone. As if she'd been holding them in opposite hands when she dropped them.

"Call Patterson, get a team here now." Kurt commanded.

Despite the fact that the house showed no signs of a struggle, Kurt knew in his gut that Jane had been taken. He knew it, and from the look Reade sent his way as he dialed Patterson's number he thought so too.

He felt his gut clench. Guilt wrapping like a noose around his neck.

Jane had been taken, and he hadn't even noticed.

Jane had been taken and he hadn't cared.


	3. Chapter 3

He'd watched them all in the beginning, it had been almost too easy to stalk a group of supposedly well trained FBI agents. But it only cemented what he already knew about their second rate nature.

The only one who presented any challenge was Jane Doe. She at least seemed to feel eyes on her throughout the day. Sending fugitive looks over her shoulder constantly as if he'd suddenly appear behind her if she looked hard enough.

She varied her routine enough that he had to work to keep track of her. The others were predictable, even their variations were simply the same two or three things shaken up. If he misplaced them he only needed to check two or three places and he located them without fail.

If Jane went missing, however, sometimes it took him hours to find her again. It made the game that much more interesting.

As the days passed he stopped paying attention to the others and began to only pay attention to her. She entranced him, he didn't know how he hadn't noticed before. So he watched and he waited.

He would have her again.

He wanted his revenge and she would be perfect. He couldn't even remember why he'd contemplated taking one of the others. She would be the only one who would sate him. The only one who'd last long enough to make it interesting for him.

This time he _would_ break her.

It would be so much more satisfying than before. This time there would be nothing stopping him from going as far as he wanted.

This time he'd have a captive audience.

So he waited, knowing his time would come, and it did. Much sooner than he could have anticipated. But he'd been ready for quite some time now.

That day, he'd noticed her distraction as she left work, as usual she'd been the last one to leave, and as she left her eyes darted around as if she could feel him watching. As usual. But she shook her head once, and left. He followed as she drove to sit in front of _Assistant Director_ Weller's apartment. There seemed to be a large congregation of people heading in. Must be a party of sort.

He waited to see if she would go in, but she sat in her car for almost an hour. Watching the various people trickle in with the same intensity with which he watched her.

He knew she wouldn't go in after the hour half mark. But he waited anyway, she did have a chilling ability to startle him. Even after everything that had happened, she found a way to circumvent his ability to anticipate people's behavior.

For once though he pegged it right, and when she left, he followed. While she sat outside her apartment wrapped in her thoughts he prepared.

It would be tonight. The rest of them were at Wellers little party, and he knew they wouldn't discover her missing until the morning at least. But given their current dynamic it might even be later.

Their discord would be their biggest weakness and he had no qualms about taking advantage.

They deserved to be punished after all.

He tucked himself into the shadows of her apartment, waiting for her to enter. He didn't have to wait long. She entered the house and as he expected she didn't turn on the lights simply closed the door and walked down the hall right into his waiting arms.

She'd been so distracted he didn't even have to fight. He'd been ready for one though. He thought he might almost be disappointed that she let her guard down so far. But it mattered not, he crept up behind her, stuck the needle in her neck and caught her when she fell.

Almost too easy.

He relished the feeling of having her absolutely powerless in his arms. It took all his restraint not to begin the game early. But he knew it would be so much better when he could see the look on her face, hear her whimpers and eventually hear her beg. So he pulled himself together.

Then he pushed her into the suitcase he'd brought, zipping her up and covering her face from view. He appreciated the symmetry of the gesture.

Her story had started in a bag not unlike this one and now it would end in one.

Jane came to slowly. Her brain felt fuzzy, and something felt wrong. But every time she tried to think, to put together what about the moment set her instincts on edge the thought slipped through her fingers.

What had happened last night?

She tried to force her mind to speed up. Trying to piece together what she remembered.

She knew she left Kurt's apartment without entering. She remembered leaving work before that. But she found the space following her departure from Kurt's blank.

Had she gone to the bar?

Or broken the seal on the bottle of Russian Vodka she'd had sitting in her freezer since Roman had gifted it to her awkwardly almost a month ago?

She didn't remember.

But she knew leaving the apartment the thought had crossed her mind. So it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. If she had drank enough to blackout, it would certainly explain the weird way her body felt at the moment. She'd only gotten drunk once before…at least that she could remember.

But that felt wrong. She wouldn't give into that now. Not when sandstorm could call her in at any moment. Or one of Patterson's programs could unlock another tattoo. She wouldn't jeopardize the mission.

Everything just felt off.

Her body felt like it was swaying, her shoulders pulling against something and her head felt like it grew fuzzier not clearer with every passing second.

She cracked her eyes open but the blinding white light that greeted her forced her to close them again. She shook her head and forced herself to open them once more. This time she squinted against the brilliant light and tried to let her eyes adjust as she attempted to survey the room.

As her surroundings became clear she felt her pulse quicken and adrenaline flood her system.

White walls surrounded her, concrete floors caressed her toes as they stretched to press flat, and the blinding light gave everything an eerie luminescence. She knew this room. She'd been here before. Hung in this exact position before.

She heard more than felt her breath quicken.

This had to be a nightmare. Some freak dream she'd awaken from and rush to empty her stomach. A routine she'd grown familiar with over the past few months.

She tugged at her hands, hoping what she suspected wouldn't prove true, but the motion only confirmed her fears. The tug brought the clank of metal to her ears, the rattle of the chain connecting her to the ceiling bringing back memories she'd done her best to bury.

She strained, trying to force her feet to touch the floor, but her toes only brushed the concrete beneath her.

The adrenaline buzzed the last of the fuzz from her brain and she forced herself to take a deep breath. To slow the spike of her heart beat. She'd gotten out of worse situations. She just needed to think. She pulled at the chains holding her, this time feeling for any give any hint of weakness. But she felt none.

Her eyes flew across the room, searching for anything that might assist her but nothing stuck out. Only bare walls.

But then she saw something in the left top corner of the room. It looked like a camera of some sort, the blinking green light told her that it was on. Was someone watching her?

As if in answer to her silent question, the smooth seamless metal door to her left burst open.

She turned to see who would enter and when their eyes met she felt something inside herself break.

"No" She heard herself whisper, "No, no, no." She couldn't' stop the words pouring from her lips as he smiled at her. A figure out of her worst nightmares now come to life again.

"Now Jane, is that really any way to greet an old friend?" His spoke like they were friends bumping into each other at the coffee shop. But his eye were dead. Lifeless as they bored into hers.

She closed her eyes and prayed for the first time in as long as she could remembered. She couldn't survive this again. Please. Please someone. Anyone. Save her from living this hell again.

She must have said the words aloud because he laughed, "Jane, you know no one's coming for you. They never did care about you, didn't you learn anything last time? The only one who's ever saved you is yourself and this time there aren't any drain pipes for you to take advantage of."

"Why am I here?" She asked, trying not to let it show that his words were getting to her. She knew how much the team detested her. They wouldn't care enough to save her. That's a lesson she'd never forget. She didn't need him to tell it to her again. Didn't need salt rubbed in wounds that never healed.

"There you go Jane, asking the important question," He drawled, turning to face the camera for a moment, "One I'm sure everyone wants the answer to. To be honest Jane," He turned back to her, walking closer until they were a hairs breath apart, "It simple really."

His fingers reached up to brush a stray hair from her cheek, she flinched away from the contact but he wrapped her jaw in a vice grip before she could turn away, "Revenge. You see, your team cost me everything. After you escaped, I'd been treading on thin ice over at the CIA, then I met your boss in Bulgaria. He took something from me there, and when I came back empty handed they let me go," with every word his hands tightening on her cheek, until her bones creaked beneath them. "After years of hard work, years of dedication, of doing everything right they washed their hands of me just like that, amazing right?"

His eyes seemed crazed as he spoke to her, a fevered look entering them that had never been there before. He'd always been calm, as if torturing her had been a completely ordinary, almost benign activity. At first it had seemed just like before but now she felt real icy terror grip her heart.

He released her jaw, the levity returning to his face once more, "But that doesn't matter anymore, I have you now, and we are going to have some quality time together Jane. Don't worry it will be fun."

The door swung open behind him, two men in white masks entered the room bringing with them a metal cart full of supplies she recognized all too well.

"Oh, one last thing before we get started," He pointed to the camera above them, "Say hi to the team for me, I figured they deserved a front row seat for the action. I'm not sure who will enjoy this more, them or me?"

Jane's eyes darted to the camera, before she forced them to the wall behind him. She couldn't allow his words to distract her. They'd trained her for this. Pain is just a dream. One she'd had before.

She tried to steel herself, to sink beneath the surface to the place they couldn't reach.

She felt the emptiness returning. It felt easier to hollow herself out, to scrap away at the edge and leave nothing behind. She'd been right last night sitting outside of Kurt's apartment. A happy life had never belonged to her. She'd known that.

She'd been built for pain. For death.

From the corner of her eyes she saw him pull a razor blade from the table, the two strangers hovering in the background.

"Why don't we show the team the master piece we made of you last time? Give them something to compare to when I'm done," As he talked he came to stand in front of her, smiling as he lifted his hand and began to cut away her top. She felt the skin beneath the fabric slicing open as he dragged the razor haphazardly down her front.

Pain is a dream. Her mind whispered to her.

He didn't stop at cutting the shirt in two, no, he held the edges and cut across her collar bone, down her shoulder and to her wrist on each side. Letting the shirt flutter to the ground he did the same to her pants.

She hadn't really noticed how cold the room was until she hung in nothing but her underwear. Warm blood dripping from the thin lines he'd traced across her.

Funny how much they burned.

She didn't allow the shame she felt to touch her. There'd been a reason she never let the team see her in less than a long sleeved shirt and pants.

She wondered what they thought of the scars that weaved across her body, cutting through tattoos, blistering across the only skin left untouched by the needle.

He'd made sure that she'd never be comfortable less than fully covered.

Distantly she heard him speak, felt them touching her, but she withdrew, sinking even further into her own mind. She wished in that moment that she had some happy moment to fall into. A place to go where she could pretend for a second that things weren't as bleak as they seemed. But only darkness surrounded her. So she embraced it.

Even as her body began to sing with pain as he began in earnest, she gave him no satisfaction or reaction.

Pain, after all, is just a dream.

...

Hey guys! Thank you again for all the lovely reviews! I'm just so glad that you guys are enjoying the ride so far! I know we are entering the place I warned you about and I won't lie this is going to get worse before it gets better! But like I said at some point there will hopefully be a happy-ish ending!

Let me know what you thought about this! I had a hard time getting myself into Keaton's mind set, but I hope that I managed to capture him at least semi-believably. Also, I decided that for this chapter at least letting you guys imagine what he's doing to her rather than painting it clearly might be the better move. After all I find the human mind is perfectly capable of imagining horrors of the most chilling nature.

Next Chapter we will be back with the team! Like I said if you'd like to see a specific POV mentioned or touched upon feel free to PM me or write it in a review! I promise I'll do my best to meet your suggestions!

Love you all!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey yall!

Just to clear up a little confusion, Keaton did take Jane and is planning some less than happy things as revenge for losing his job. He is telling Jane the team doesn't care because it will hurt her. He wants to break her, he knows from watching them for weeks that they care, even if they don't want to admit it. So, don't worry it wasn't a plot hole, I promise! I thought about his motivation a lot before I settled on what I published in chapter three. Trust me it took me almost 6 different variations of the same chapter before I settled on that one J

Now on to what you've all been wanting! The team's reaction and a little bit more of what Jane is going through!

FAIR WARNING! THIS WILL BE PUSHING THE BOUNDRIES OF THE T RATING! NEXT CHAPTER ESPECIALLY! SO IF I FEEL I NEED TO UPGRADE TO MATURE I WILL! HOWEVER THERE WILL BE ABSOLUTELY NO RAPE! I WILL LET YOU KNOW IF ANYTHING LIKE THAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN IN A NOTE JUST LIKE THIS! SO PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTES! 3

Also a huge THANK YOU for all the lovely reviews, the faves and the follows! You all warm my heart and inspire me to get this bad boy finished! If it weren't for you guys this might be a slower train but no better motivation than that!

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Jane had been declared missing almost four hours ago, and the office had devolved into chaos. Patterson had retreated into her office, telling the team she would comb through the footage from the numerous cameras around Jane's apartment by herself. Not that she didn't need to do that, but she couldn't stand to watch them any longer.

It seemed like they had all turned on each other, Zapata, Reade, Kurt and Nas turning the search into a free for all. Each of them rushing to blame the others for the fact that Jane had gone missing.

Zapata still questioning whether Jane had really been taken or merely run, seeming angry that they weren't all thinking the same thing.

Kurt seemed torn between agreeing with Zapata, and foaming at the mouth at her every word.

But what really forced her into hiding had been the fact that Naz seemed to only care because she thought that sandstorm might attempt to contact Jane. She'd brought it up 15 times in the two hours Patterson had tried to work in the bullpen. When the others seemed unfazed by the repeated questions, she couldn't stand it.

They were better than this. Jane deserved better than this. Patterson felt sick at the thought that Jane could be out there somewhere sick and alone. And instead of focusing on trying to find her, everyone else seemed more worried about the mission or making sure they could walk away guilt free no matter the outcome.

But she pushed that all from her mind, and got to work. She wouldn't let Jane down.

Not again.

So she carefully reviewed footage from the 22 cameras on and around Jane's street that had views of her safe house.

At first she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She had been able to track Jane's SUV as it pulled into the street and parked in front of the safe house around 930. Jane appeared to stay in the car until almost 9:45, then she got out and entered her apartment.

Patterson had taken a shot of Jane peering over her shoulder as she entered the apartment. She prayed that it wouldn't be the last picture she'd have of her.

But then nothing.

No lights came on inside of the safe house, no one walked by or seemed to hover suspiciously. No one else entered the apartment. It was as if Jane had entered and simply teleported.

She'd almost given up, when she happened to catch a glimpse of a tiny camera on the side of the house neighboring Jane's in the very corner of one of the images from another camera. She checked and she definitely didn't have that viewpoint on her screen.

With a few taps, and some finger magic she traced the camera. Lucky for her the camera seemed to be a professionally installed camera that fed into a larger data base. All information collected and stored, ready and waiting for someone like her to dip into.

She found herself thankful for the NSA technology when it took her half the time it might normally to access the cameras footage. She put it on a slow fast forward and set it back two hours from when Jane had arrived at her safe house.

At first this new view of the backside of Jane's apartment seemed to be a dead end, but then she saw it. Just seconds before Jane pulled up in front of the safe house a shadow appeared in the corner of the screen. She watched in mounting horror as the figure, a man or possibly a large woman –she tried not to assume anything-, crawled into the window.

She watched to see if anyone would exit from the same area. Thankfully, a little over 35 minutes later the window opened again. This time a large duffle bag was pushed out the window before the figure pushed out, dragging the duffle behind them and out of view of the camera.

She could almost swear it was identical to the bag they'd found Jane in almost a year ago. She felt her gut twist, she'd been hoping somehow that this would all end up being a mistake. That she'd work her magic and pull Jane out of thin air.

"Guys, I found something," Patterson exclaimed as she rushed out of her area and into the bullpen.

Immediately whatever argument the team currently found themselves locked into fell silent as they all turned to look at her.

"I have some grainy footage of a man or a large woman, it's really hard to be certain, and these days really anything is possible, ya know?" She asked

Kurt held his hand up, "Patterson, focus please, what's on the footage?"

"The footage captured this person entering Jane's apartment shortly before she got home last night and leaving some time after with a duffle just big enough to fit a person Jane's height and weight."

As she talked she moved back into her area, assuming that the team trailed behind her, and she pulled a series of freeze frames up to show them.

"I'll put some of my people on these," Naz spoke from the back of the group, "See if we can't clear up the images to try and identify the man."

Kurt simply glared at the screen, "This is all you have?"

She nodded, her gaze fastened to her screens, when Kurt entered the 'someone-I-care-about-is-in-danger-and-I-feel-helpless' stage she tried to limit eye contact. He took intense to a whole new level and it made her anxiety worse than usual.

"How do we know it wasn't just sandstorm taking her back the way they left her?" Zapata asked, her tone sharp but Patterson knew by a quick glance that she's more worried than she looked.

"We don't, but it doesn't fit their pattern. They want Jane with us, why would they suddenly change their minds?" Naz replied, her voice cool, "We need to find her, because at some point Sandstorm is going to come looking."

Patterson opened her mouth to tell Naz off, but Reade spoke before she could, "Is that your only concern? For all we know they were carrying Jane's body in that bag, she's a person not a tool, could you at least pretend to care what happens to her."

"Don't you think that's a little ironic, you telling me to care more about her? What was it you said?" Naz asked, her eyes almost as cold as the smile that spread across her face, "Oh right, _pawn_ s get sacrificed. I'm just being rational, if we don't find her soon our problems are going to be more than just a missing agent."

"Is there anything you don't listen in on?" Kurt snarled before Reade could bite back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zapata asked.

Just as it had in the bullpen her space suddenly erupted as they all tried to take chunks out of each other, insults and accusations flying across the room like bullets in a warzone. Patterson felt her chest tightening, and her breathing increasing. God, they were literally tearing each other apart without Jane.

A ping from her main computer tore her attention away from the fight in front of her, and she moved to see what had dinged.

When she got to the computer, she felt her brow scrunch in confusion, and the grip on her tablet tighten. Something appeared to be connecting to her computer, and as she watched the screen went black as a video feed took over the monitor.

"Guys," She called behind her, confusion building as static rolled across her screen. Someone was messing with her babies and she doubted it was unrelated.

Then the video started playing and she wished with all her heart that the static had continued. She felt her tablet slip from her grip, but she didn't hear the crash it made as it collided with the floor. Her attention transfixed on the images in front of her, "Jane," She whispered, her fingers reaching out to touch the screen. Stopping just before they touched the monitor.

Terror clutched her heart as she took it in, Jane appeared to be hanging from a hook in the ceiling, her head slumped as if she were knocked out or drugged.

She didn't even notice the silence that took over at the crash or the rest of the team appearing at her shoulders to stare at the screen besides her.

For some reason she felt guilt sink into her stomach, why didn't she notice that Jane hadn't been there that night? She should have sent her a text or called her. Checked on her.

They all watched in silence as Jane stirred, watched her body tense the confusion melting away as she became aware of her surroundings.

They flinched with her when the door slammed open, but somehow Patterson waited for the moment Jane would free herself. She'd always been an impossibly talented woman. A virtual superwoman, seemly super human in her ability to defeat herself and those she cared for.

But instead she watched as Jane took in the person walking in and that super woman veneer faded. Replaced by a woman who looked petrified, broken, and alone.

The camera didn't reveal the man who inspired such a look in Jane, but they heard his voice as he greeted her.

Then they watched as Jane's face fell even further, and they heard the desperation in her voice as she muttered no to herself over and over again. She hadn't been aware that Jane could break her heart any further. But in that moment Patterson felt like her heart had shattered in her chest.

How had they never seen it? How broken she'd been behind her mask?

Patterson barely suppressed the urge to scream when Kurt started punching the wall on her left as the man started talking. "Weller?" She heard Reade asked, his hands up as he took a step closer to Weller.

He just kept punching.

Patterson couldn't decide where to keep her eyes, but the sound of the voice on the monitor drew her attention again.

But she still heard Naz's voice cut across the otherwise silent room, "Get it together, this won't help her."

Almost in unison, the man began to tear into Jane, telling her that they didn't care, that they wouldn't come. Reminding her that she'd had to save herself, and that this time she'd never leave.

Patterson waited for Jane to argue, for her to tell him that they would come for her. They would fight for her. But instead she watched Jane give up. As if those words shut her down completely.

She didn't fight. She believed it. She believed that they wouldn't come for her.

God, what had they done?

Then suddenly the man came into the view of the camera, and turned to smile at them.

"Isn't that Keaton? The assistant director the CIA?" Reade questioned.

"Yes, it is," Kurt choked out. Patterson had never heard him sound so furious.

But then Keaton explained to the camera with a smile, that he'd taken Jane to get revenge. That he blamed Kurt for losing his job and now Jane would suffer for the team's actions.

She waited for Kurt to punch something to yell but instead those words seem to breathe life into him. She didn't need him to verbalize that he was going to kill Keaton if he got his hands on him. His eyes said it all, and Patterson instinctively took a step back, nearly stepping into Zapata, whose eyes never left Jane's face. Guilt marred her features.

Then the man gestured to the camera with a broad smile, telling Jane to say hello to them, and he implied heavily that the team would enjoy watching what was about to happen. Patterson almost had to turn away when Jane's eyes flicked to the camera full of horror and resignation.

Did she really believe them capable of watching this with anything but horror?

She prayed that it would end there. That somehow this would all be just a horrible nightmare, one she'd wake from any second.

But then he got out the razor blade, "Why don't we show the team the masterpiece we made of you last time? Give them something to compare to for later."

Those words would appear in her nightmares, that she knew but what happened next would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Her hands came up to cover her mouth, bile rising up in her throat as he started to cut Jane's clothing off. She watched blood blossom beneath the razor, waited for Jane to cry out, for her to react. But she never did.

Even as he cut lines across her torso, down her arms, even onto her legs.

Then Patterson's eyes tore away from those thin trails of bright red, and she saw Jane's body for the first time since they'd scanned her tattoos almost a year ago.

She gasped, and tears slid down her face, "Jane, oh Jane," She whispered in horror. Her friend's body had become a network of scars.

Where once beautiful tattoos drew the eyes, now thick roping scars cut through them as if someone wanted to destroy every beautiful thing on her body. Electrical burns covered her legs, burns splattered across her body and thin scars made ribbons of the pale skin left beneath the ink.

But worst of all, Jane seemed looked she hadn't eat since she'd been back, her ribs easily visible, and not an ounce of fat on her body.

How had they not seen?

Distantly she heard Zapata suck in her breath as she too stared in horror at the woman who had once been their friend.

But it didn't stop there.

He took the blade, a sympathetic smile fixed onto his face, he began to drag the blade in criss-cross patterns slicing through the cut he'd just made. His face a picture of concentration as he worked.

She watched Jane's face, but it remained empty. Her eyes vacant, still staring at the wall in front of her as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. Every once in a while her eyes would twitch, her mouth turns down ever so slightly but if she blinked she would have missed the minute movements.

When each of his original lines had at least four long slashing lines cut across them he stood. Admiring his handiwork.

She watched the man throw the razor away, and gesture, two men appearing from off camera, beside him. He made another gesture and they stepped forward.

"Just know Jane, I didn't want it to have to be this way but from the beginning you were the easy choice. I knew if I took you I could do whatever I wanted and no one would come to stop me. That's what happens when you betray people, Jane, when it all catches up to you there isn't anyone left to care. So really, this hurts me far more than it hurts you, I promise."

With hardly a glance between them they started to beat Jane. The sick sound of fists meeting flesh the only thing she could hear. Her eyes taking in the sight of her Jane's body swinging helpless between the two hulking men.

As she watched, she couldn't tell if the blood on the men's first was from the cuts littering Jane's body or if they'd split their knuckles with the force of their punches.

It seemed inhumanly brutal.

And yet, Jane never made a sound, her face dead, unmoved by the violence being rained down on her. She seemed almost catatonic.

In a way that almost made it worse. _This so clearly isn't the first time this has happened to her_. Patterson thought, the bile burning her throat as she tried to suppress the urge to vomit again.

Then as quickly as it had begun Keaton gestured and they stopped.

But then he got out a pack of cigarettes, and light one. He sucked in deep, blowing the smoke in Jane's face before he leaned forward, "Nasty habit I know, but for some reason I just can't seem to shake it," he seemed to confide.

"But maybe today is the day?" He asked, before he stepped even closer careful not to obstruct their view, and put the cigarette out on the delicate skin between her collar bone and shoulder.

He held it there for what felt like hours before he let it drop to the ground.

She felt transfixed by the bright red circle of burnt skin left behind. She almost didn't see him pull another one from the pack and light it.

She don't know how long she watched, but when she'd watch the 9th cigarette fall to the floor she knew she couldn't do it any longer. She couldn't watch what he'd do with the 10th.

She felt her feet taking her away from the room before she consciously realized she'd run away.

She knew she should go back. She should be as strong as Jane. If nothing else she deserved to watch what was happening to her. She should be there for Jane, even if she didn't know that they were there. Even if she thought they would watch the video and laugh. A thought that sent the bile she'd been suppressing violently out of her body.

She couldn't stop heaving.

She'd never had to watch something like that, and she prayed she never would again.

They would find her.

Patterson would find her.

They would make this right.

No, she would make this right.

When they got Jane back, and they would, she would do everything in her power to fix what they had all broken.

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"That's enough from now, just a taste of what's to come," Keaton told the camera with a smile, "I'll be back Jane, try not to miss me too much."

The rest of them stood in stunned silence as the video cut off, stopping suddenly. They all stared at Jane, hanging, her eyes still fixed on the wall. A small trail of tears streaming down her cheeks, a line of ten circular burns trailing down her front. In stark contrast with the darkening skin all over her torso, the tops of her legs and surely her back from the blows they'd rained down upon her.

Blood leaked sluggishly from her the cuts, congealing into thicker droplets as it met with older trailers.

But she had never made a sound.

"When Patterson gets back, I'll see if I can help her trace the video. Kurt, and Reade, reach out to the CIA and see what they can get us about Agent Keaton." Naz's voice broke them from their stupors.

Zapata brushed tears from her cheek, still unable to look away, "What do you want me to do?" She asked, hoping her bravado hid the shake in her voice.

"See if you can start finding anything and everything on Keaton. He has to be keeping her somewhere, see if anything pops." Naz may not do pep talks but she could be objective. From the looks of it the rest of them were too shocked to do anything.

She hoped Jane made it out of this, and not just because they had no hope of taking down sandstorm without her. But because she didn't know if everyone in this room would make it out the other side if she didn't.

"We're on it," Reade told her, she respected his ability to hold it together, but she noted the way his hands trembled as he approached Kurt. His level headedness would be what Kurt needed right now. If for no other reason than he would react to that. Then his own shame would curtail his anger for the moment.

They needed him focused if they were going to get Jane back.

Then she went to go find Patterson.

There would be time for guilt, for should have and could haves later. But they didn't have time for that, and if no one else could remove themselves from the situation enough to recognize that, she would.

That had always been Naz's specialty.

She found the girl kneeling besides the toilet in the women's locker room, her head slumped against her forearms. Her shoulders shook, and she seemed so small sitting there. Like a little girl, lost and in need of comfort.

"Patterson, are you alright?" She asked as gently as she could, crouching down beside her.

"No," Patterson replied simply, lifting her head, and meeting Naz's eyes squarely. Despite the tears the girl's eyes burned, "But that isn't what's important right now."

Naz waited for her usual ramble to begin, but instead she sat there in silence. "You're right, we need to concentrate on trying to trace the origins of the video. See if we can use his own smarts against him, he found a way to upload a link directly to our computers. So if we can break this, we could trace it directly to the source."

"I know, but I need another few second. I don't want to lose any more of my lunch while I'm trying to work." The girl paused again, eyes darting away from hers for the first time, hesitation clear.

"What?"

"We'll need to analyze the video, right? To see if we can discern anything about where they are, or who the two men he brought with him are."

"Yes, we will, but we can have someone else do that while we concentrate on tracing him if that would make you feel better?" She found herself offering, after all it wouldn't do to have the girl racing to the bathroom every few minutes while they tried to work.

"No," Patterson replied vehemently, "I'll do it, Jane wouldn't want anyone who didn't have to seeing it," As she spoke, Patterson finally pushed herself to her feet. "She deserves better than to have a bunch of strangers seeing her…seeing her like that." She finished lamely but the strength she'd been lacking had returned.

Naz nodded, "You're right, well then we should go get to work." The fact that they all had no idea how long Jane had before it all started again was a fact she left unspoken for now.

Patterson just nodded, and turned to leave the restroom head held high.

"We're going to find her, you know that right?" She asked as they walked down the hallway.

"I know."

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ONE MORE THING YALL!

I'm trying to do a poll to see if you guys want Roman involved in this story at all! So please let me know in a review or even a pm if you'd like to see him show up. Because at the moment I have two possible directions planned for the remaining chapter. One of them has Roman directly involved helping the team find Jane, and the other has him on as a minor character later on in the story.

SO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK 3


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys,

So it appears to be a mostly 50/50 thing in regards to Roman's involvement! So I guess we shall see what I decide to do in the next few chapters J

If he does show up it will either be the teams following chapter, so chapter 5 or chapter 7.

Thank you again for all the LOVELY reviews! You guys genuinely warm my heart, and I'm almost overwhelmed by the response you guys have had. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! 3

Also thank you guys for being so open to the poll, I will definitely have more in the future! Maybe even one at the end of this chapter ;)

Love,

Tempest

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Pain.

 _You're in pain_. Her mind whispered to her from the surface, the cool thoughts tried to pull her out of the depths and back to reality. But she resisted.

She didn't want to go back.

She wanted to stay here in the darkness. She didn't want to face the swirl of pain and agony that awaited her.

She'd been abandoned again, given back to the hell she'd only barely escaped the first time, and this time she had no hope. No thoughts that freedom might give her a chance at redemption.

They hated her.

Hell, she hated her. So why not stay here? Here no one could touch her. No one could burn her or cut her or drown her. Here she drowned herself.

Here she had the power to hurt herself or heal herself.

They'd trained her to deal with the physical pain. But why had no one told her that the emotional pain would be what broke her? How could they have let her go knowing that she had no defense against this endless agony?

She almost wished they'd come back. Focusing her mind in the depths while they ruined her body distracted her mind. Gave her something to do, a distraction from the endless replay of every moment of anger, distrust, all out hatred she's experienced since her first escape.

 _He's right, you know? They want you here, back in this cell. You're nothing but a criminal to them. They'll probably thank him when it's all over._ Her mind whispered endless to her.

She felt awareness returning to her, pushing her away from her sanctuary and back into reality. Tears were slipping silently down her cheeks, freezing to her face before they fell from her chin.

Keaton must have lowered the temperature further when he left.

The chill almost numbed the pain of the burns she felt crawling down the side of her chest. But it did little to relieve the sharp, stabbing pain of the cuts spanning the length of her body. She'd almost wished they were deeper, the shallow cuts hurt more and bled less. No chance that she'd bleed out from any of those. The bruises she didn't give any attention to. She'd gotten worse training by herself.

But she didn't care to look to see how many new scars she'd have at the end of this. _If there is an end to this_ , her mind whispered to her.

Still she could ignore all those things, the pain nothing new to her. Compared to the three months she'd spent with Keaton before, this had been a cake walk.

But she wondered how long he'd leave her hanging. Her hands had gone numb some time ago, and her shoulders strained against the weight of her body. After the damage done to them before she knew it wouldn't be long before they pulled out of their sockets again.

That particular type of pain one of the ones that stuck out most from her previous CIA visit. Her shoulders never did heal entirely after the repeated dislocations. They pained her in the cold months, a constant ache that drilled at the back of her mind through the day.

She'd made sure to train brutally upon her return to make sure that no one noticed her weakness. She started to wonder if it would be possible to hide it when she returned again but her mind reminded her that more than likely she wouldn't return.

She tried to imagine what it would be to die here.

Amazingly, she felt relief at the thought of it all being over. Never having to face Kurt, or Reade, Zapata or Patterson. Never have to see the open distain, distrust and anger on their faces.

She wondered if she'd find peace in death. Or if she'd find a new hell there.

No one had ever asked if she believed in heaven or hell. She wondered if Alice would have been religious or if Remi ever felt the need for something more to cling to in the midst of a mission. She really couldn't be sure what she, Jane, felt about it.

But that quiet, almost dead part of herself, hoped that if they were real she'd end up in heaven. But then, people like her, they didn't get happy ending.

If anything she should hope that darkness would be the only thing waiting for her there.

She wondered how long she'd have to endure this before her body gave out.

Keaton seemed skilled at dragging this out, but maybe she could force his hand. Taunt him into taking it too far.

She could do that.

She would take advantage of the changes in him and make him give her what she wanted.

Determination burned through her.

With that she let herself sink back into the depth of her mind.

She needed to conserve the strength she had if this plan was going to work. It would be best to drift away from the pain, and the chill that surrounded her body.

She embraced the darkness, her eyes sliding shut and her mind going dark.

She had no idea how long she floated there, safe and unaffected by her surroundings when the sound of the door slamming open registered faintly.

She ignored it.

Or she tried to.

But her eyes shot open when Keaton threw a bucket of steaming hot water on her. Every inch of her skin felt alive, singed and tingling. The temporary heat, only furthering the effects of the icy temperature of the room as it instantly chilled the liquid now soaking her skin.

It burned, like stepping into a hot bath after being outside in the cold for too long, but worse.

She suppressed the urge to gasp, but failed to suppress the shivers that shook her body. The trembling further tightening the muscles in her shoulders, sending a shooting pain up her back.

"There she is, I'm going to need you awake for what's coming next Jane," Keaton told her tossing the bucket to the side, and stepping forward to run his fingers along her stomach. He pulled it back, licking the droplet of water off his finger tip, "I know you're probably thirsty Jane, but I promise next time you'll get more than enough to drink."

She turned her head away from his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of the fear she knew would be present in her eyes. Her mind already conjuring up the inky taste of water mixed with blood and bile. The agony of lungs filled to the brim with water. The way it burned as her body tried desperately to empty her stomach and her lungs.

"But that can wait, I have something better for now. We're going to take a trip, and before you get any ideas Jane, just know that if you resist I'll break every bone in your body. Slowly." He told her matter-of-factly.

She knew it wasn't an idle threat. Her hand never healed right, her fingers still stiff and uncooperative if she didn't stretch them carefully every morning. But she'd been lucky the hammer hadn't left any scars for the team to see or question.

Anyway, it wasn't like she had the energy to resist, her arms were numb to her elbows at this point, and it would take hours for feeling to return to her fingers. She was useless. Helpless. No wonder they let him have her again.

"Get her down, take her to the next room," She heard Keaton bark, and moments later she felt hands wrapping around her torso lifting her. Then the strain on her shoulders lifted, and she was hefted over a man's broad shoulders.

She watched the floor slip by as he walked, trying to flex her fingers and her wrists beneath the restraints. But they remained limp, they were a pale bloodless color, and she knew that they'd likely wouldn't have time to turn pink before they strung her up again.

Unceremoniously they dumped her in steel chair, unchaining her wrists, only to fasten her arms in leather straps to the arms of the chair. Wordless the two men put similar straps around her thighs, her feet and looped around her shoulders. Then they began connecting electrodes to her head, stickies' connected to wires also placed on her the skin between her collar bone and her shoulders on both sides.

They grabbed her jaw, forcing it open before shoving a rubber guard between her teeth.

She ignored them, instead looking at the room as Keaton appeared in the doorway behind them. It appeared to be a room nearly identical to her cell, maybe a little larger, she spotted another camera in the corner. She couldn't see behind her but she knew that would be where the device would be.

"Well Jane, I figured for old time's sake we'd play a little game, give the team a little taste of what we did with our time together all those months ago. Do you think Agent Naz will enjoy getting to watch this? When we first had you, she always nosed around, wondering what we were doing to you. What we were finding out, if anything, but I suppose reading the reports is a little different than watching it yourself. She did a good job with the question prompts but great questions don't help much when you aren't saying anything." Keaton told her casually, walking behind her to turn the machine on.

"But I suppose that's old news, right? Or did Agent Naz not tell you about helping us out with you last time? I wonder if that's what she and Agent Weller talk about when they're alone. Or if they'd rather pretend you don't exist outside of the office? Out of sight out of mind?" He laughed, he stayed behind her out of her line of sight.

She jumped when his voice sounded directly beside her ear, "Just try to remember Jane, your team is watching this right now, and they are going to enjoy every last second of it."

He drew away after that, but she felt his words reverberate inside her.

Without any warning his turned the dial, and electricity scorched her insides. She felt her jaw clench, and her muscles twitch, a high pitched whine forcing its way past her lips. It felt like it went on for hours. But she knew it had only been seconds.

"Jane, it's okay to scream," He told her as another wave of electricity crashed over her.

He must have turned up the voltage because she could barely think over the crackle of the electricity in her veins.

Again, he turned that dial.

Again.

And again.

Until her only thoughts were prayers.

Again.

This time she felt one of her shoulders pop out as her chest surged forward with the force of the current burning through her.

Again.

And Again.

The guard muffled her screams as she finally gave in.

He gave her no time to find her bearings. No time to sink into the safe place in her mind.

Again.

Again.

She tasted blood at the back of throat. She tried to swallow but she found she couldn't.

Again.

Until she felt like she knew nothing but those seconds between.

Again.

Again.

Someone yelled in the distance, but her brain couldn't process the words.

She tensed in anticipation of the electricity. But it didn't come.

She felt like the currents still ran through her. Her muscles twitching independently, her pulse pounding and her head swimming.

She tried to focus. She tried to bring herself back…back to what she couldn't remember.

Still someone shouted, but their words still sounded like nothing but gibberish to her.

She blinked, and blinked, but her vision wouldn't clear.

Suddenly something collided with her cheek, sending her head snapping violently to the right. This new pain giving her a focal point, something to connect to.

She managed to make out the shape of people in front of her.

But her brain still felt distant, she wondered if this was what bugs felt before they were disintegrated by those blue lights people hung on their porches.

"Wah-wha-," She tried to speak but her words felt as jumbled as her brain.

"There she is, I almost thought I'd ended this little game so soon," The hazy figure in front of her spoke, and this time she understood but she still felt confused.

"Bring us some water," The figured spoke again, and one of the figured left. Her brain lost focus again.

When she clawed her way to the surface again, she noted that she wasn't restrained in the chair anymore. She hardly had enough time to question it, before another bucket of water was thrown over her.

Her body scrambled to respond to this new stimuli, she tried to bring her arms up to protect her face, and her left arm complied easily. But her right arm hung limply, her attempt at movement sending shoot pain up her shoulder. The cuts on her body stung beneath the water, but the shoulder caught most of her attention. Had she dislocated it during the torture?

"Are you back with us Jane?" This time her brain told her the voice belonged to Agent Keaton, and it rushed to remind her of her situation.

She remembered her plan.

She lowered her arm, trying to ignore the spasms wracking her body, "F-f-fuck you," She managed to choke out, and when his face darkened she forced her lips to curl up.

When he bend down to look her in the eyes she gathered the blood that had collected into her mouth, and spat it in his face. Her mouth, already dry, felt chalky and cracked as the last moisture left it. But she still managed to choke out a laugh.

She had no hopes of defending herself when he punched her, her head hitting the back of the chair she sat in with a loud thunk.

"Well, if that's how you want to be Jane," he said, his voice darkening, "Bring it in."

Her ears were ringing from the force of the hit and the electricity he'd shot through her. Her head still swimming, but she still knew what the tub meant when they carried it in. If she were a weaker woman, she might have begged.

But then she reminded herself this is exactly what she wanted. This was exactly what the team wanted.

So when Keaton pulled her up by the hair, she didn't even try to fight, just let him drag her towards the tub. Her feet still scrambled to find purchase on the floor, if only to relieve the pressure on her scalp, but he drug her across the room too quickly for her tortured muscles to handle.

"I didn't want it to be like this Jane, not yet but you've forced my hand." Keaton told her, pulling her head up so she could meet his eyes once before he plunged her head beneath the water.

Instinctively she fought against it, her movement spastic and uncoordinated. But it didn't take long before the brackish water found itself inside her airway. She could feel herself drowning, despite her plan she found herself unable to stop her bodies defense mechanism. Her body still desperate to push itself out of the water.

Just when she felt herself start to go limp, just as she'd started to surrender to the inevitable he pulled her above the water. She grasped desperately for air, but before she could satisfy her bodies need he plunged her back below the surface.

She didn't know how many times he shoved her head under and brought it back up before he finally stopped.

But when he finally kept her above water it felt as if she had inhaled the entire tubs worth of water. Though she tried to fight the reflex, her body still desperately gasping for air, she couldn't and so she vomited, water, blood, and stomach acid pouring out of her mouth.

It felt like she gagged, and vomited for hours. Her already exhausted muscles, fighting feebly against the spasming of her stomach.

When she finished, he threw her into the liquid she'd just thrown up, looking down at her with disgust in his eyes, "Is that all Jane? The last of your resistance? Are you finally ready to give in? What do you have left to fight for? There is literally no one on this earth who would miss you. Not one. The world would be a better place without you."

"I know," She whispered hoarsely, her throat ravaged by the vomit and the screams. She'd meant to say something witty, something to spark the anger that lay hidden beneath his benevolent mask. But instead she had told him her sad, desperate truth. She knew no one would care. She knew that there would be no funeral full of loved ones weeping for her. There would be no grave covered each year with flowers.

No she would likely be buried in an unmarked hole, forgotten as quickly as reports could be typed up by harried hands.

She thought briefly of Roman. But even he loved Remi, and Jane could never be her.

Just another person she'd disappointed, betrayed by her mere existence.

Keaton laughed, "Oh Jane, I'm almost disappointed, I know there's more fight in you than this." He kicked idly at her, but she absorbed the blow to her stomach without reaction.

She stayed silent, vacancy filling her eyes as she fled back into her mind. Everything about this world too painful and depressing.

Pain is just a dream. But she's grown tired of dreaming it.

Deep inside she longs for sunshine, for grass beneath her feet, and laughter that for once included her instead of ostracized her.

Maybe she'd been built for this. But even tools need to be put down upon occasion. Lest they break. But they'd just used her, and used her, until she had nothing left to give.

She felt more pain blossom across her body but she retreated from it.

She fell deep into the rabbit hole of her mind, and she let herself fall further and further until she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

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He watched her, looking at her worn, emaciated body. He prodded her again with the tip of his boot but still she remained vacant. Her eyes distant and unfocused like a doll.

He smiled, "Well, well Jane, this just won't do the game isn't nearly over. You don't get to leave so soon," he gestured to thing 2 to grab her body from the floor.

"Take her back to the cell, and then go get some rest. We'll be back at it by sunrise." He watched as thing 2 picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Jane gave no indication she felt the movement, her face remaining as blank and lifeless as before.

When they left the room, and his sight line, he paused to survey the room. This wasn't enough, he needed something to shock her back to life. Something that she wouldn't be able to hide from.

He thought about it for some time, before he felt his lips spread into a smile.

 _Oh yes, that will be perfect_ , he thought to himself, walking out of the room and down the hallway into his supply room. He'd had this made weeks ago, but he hadn't planned to use it for days yet. A sort of grand finale to his little hide-n-seek game with the FBI dogs.

But something told him it would be exactly what he needed.

Then he'd have done it, he'd have broken her mind and he would have all the time he wanted to break her body. He'd make sure to be there when they found her body. Seeing the looks on their faces would be the highlight of his year.

He searched the shelves in front of him, it took some time because each tool in front of him brought a memory to the front of his mind. Some of them, he brushed his fingers against wondering if he'd have the chance to use it on Jane.

But finally he found it, his smile stretching almost manically across his face, his fingers caressing the sharp metal edge of the brand. He could almost hear her screams, almost smell the cooking skin, and almost feel the tangy texture her fear would bring to the room. He'd hated that Wellers name covered her skin.

He'd change that.

Soon no one would be able to question that it was him not Weller who owned her. Body, mind and spirit.

He'd own it all.

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AUTHORS NOTE 2.0!

I did want to let you all know that this will be one of the last chapter features HEAVY physical violence, as I know that some of my readers are sensitive to this! It isn't the LAST chapter, just one of the last, okay?

So, hang on for a few more and you'll get some less physically tortuous content! I can't promise the angst will disappear immediately, as let's be real, Jane isn't just going to be okay after this. Nor will she just walk into the teams awaiting arms as if none of this ever happened! They will have to put in work, and she will have to heal. That won't be a quick process nor will it be an easy one.

So I MAYYYYYYYY be extended this story past ten chapters! Mayyyyyyybe closer to 15 chapters by the end! But I have no idea where my muse will take me!

LOVE LOVE LOVE,

Fallen 3


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys!

So I have another poll for you guys:

In a future moment, when Jane wakes up in the hospital who would you like to be by her side?

-Patterson

-Roman

-Kurt

-Reade

-Zapata

-Dr. Borden

-Naz

-Allie

I'm working on the scene itself and have worked my way through literally all of them, and haven't been able to decide which scenario I like best. I know Kurt may seem like the oblivious choice, but I think Jane would react negatively to his presence. But then again, she might react negatively to all of them. So I don't know, I'm at a loss!

Anyway, this is the Kurt chapter all of you have been asking for J

Hope it lives up to expectations!

So so so much love for all you and the lovely reviews, faves, follows, ect. That you all have bestowed upon this story and me! Seriously you guys ROCK! Love you to the bottom of my sad little hearts!

-Fallen

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It had been 36 hours since Jane had been declared missing, and 48 since she'd been taken from her apartment. To say Kurt was losing his mind would be an understatement.

Every time he thought they'd found something, a lead or a possible location on Jane it ended up a dead end. It took everything in his power not to lose his shit every time.

But he had to try to be the leader. The whole team looked to him to be their strength, and they needed it now more than ever. He couldn't let them down.

No, he wouldn't let them down.

But he didn't know how much more of this he could handle. He needed to see her, feel her breathing, and see for himself that she'd be okay. The image of her hanging there, naked and afraid, would haunt him for the rest of his life. Looking at what they'd done to her, made him sick, they'd failed her even before Keaton took her. Kurt didn't have to look at the others to know they felt the same.

Jane had no one, no one but them. Yet all they'd done since she returned had been to make her feel like their ultimate enemy. Pointing fingers and throwing accusations at her at every opportunity. Ignoring the signs that there had been something desperately wrong with her because none of them could admit that they hadn't been the only ones hurt.

He'd never been so disgusted with himself.

Still he had to shove all those feelings down. Remorse wouldn't mean anything if they couldn't find her. Wouldn't mean anything if they failed her and she ended up dead in that cell.

He hadn't prayed since Taylor went missing. But he found himself sending a prayer up for Jane. _Please, give her back to me and I promise I will never let her go again._

"Kurt?" He looked up from the papers at his desk taking in Patterson, her eyes watery but fierce. If anyone would find Jane, it would be Patterson.

"What did you find?" He asked, trying his best not to sound too hopeful.

She shook her head, "We haven't been able to pinpoint anything definitive, but Naz and I were able to triangulate Keaton's last few phone calls. We've narrowed it down to a 40 minute radius near Buffalo. It's a lot of ground to cover, but we are trying to cross reference any properties in his name, his families names or even close friends."

"Have you been able to trace the video yet?"

Again she shook her head, eyes downcast, "No, but Naz thinks we're getting close, it's just taking longer than we'd like it. What about you guys? Have you been able to hunt down any associates of Keaton's who might have an idea where he's at?"

It was Kurt's turn to look away, "No, so far none of them seem to know where he's been. As far as we can tell, when he got fired he pretty much fell off the grid. None of his family or friends have had contact with him in almost a month." Hitting dead ends had always been frustrating, but with Jane on the line it took it to a whole different level.

Before they could continue, Reade burst into Kurt's office, "One of my contacts in the CIA came through with something that I think might help us."

Kurt and Patterson both looked at him expectantly, "Well, turns out that Keaton's been married before, but his wife died almost five years ago."

"Okay, and?" Patterson asked before he could get the words out.

"And, apparently she came from a fairly wealthy family," He looked at them as if waiting for them to connect the dots, when they didn't he rolled his eyes, "A wealthy family with a lot of properties that were left to her when the parents died, and then left to him when she died."

"Why didn't these show up on your preliminary searches Patterson?" Kurt demanded.

"They must have been listed under the wife's maiden name, they wouldn't have come up in our initial search," Patterson replied, already moving to leave his office, head buried in the tablet.

"Let us know if you find anything," He called after her, "Good work, this could be the lead we've been waiting for."

"I hope so," Reade told him sincerely, "I don't like the idea of Jane in his hands any more than you do."

Kurt sincerely doubted that, but he nodded his head anyway, "Where's Zapata?"

Reade turned to look behind them, "I think she went to grab us coffee, but I thought she'd be back by now."

Kurt sighed, Zapata didn't seem to be taking Jane's kidnapping well, and he knew she needed time to collect her thoughts. But he felt angry at her, angry at himself really, and it was hard not to immediately see this as her avoiding helping them find Jane.

"Look, Weller, I know Tasha and Jane haven't had the best of relationships since Jane got back. But you have to know Tasha wants her back here as much as any of us."

"I know," he replied, meeting Reade's eyes with what he hoped amounted to a smile, "But right now we can't afford to be distracted. I need her head in the game when she gets back. Jane needs us to be at our best."

Reade nodded, turning to leave the office, "Wait, let's go check on Naz, I'm hoping she'll have gotten something from the NSA databases about Keaton's muscle."

He felt his jaw clench at the thought of the two men who had beaten Jane so callously. She's looked like a child besides them, but they hadn't hesitated in the slightest. He looked forward to putting cuffs around their wrists, and putting them away for as long as he could.

He shook the thoughts from his head, as Reade and him left his office and headed down the corridor towards Naz's office.

When they got there he knocked, opening the door before she'd had a chance to say anything, "What have you found?" He demanded as soon as she looked up.

"Well at the moment, I have four possible suspects, based off of the cases Keaton's been a part of I'm inclined to bet the two men are Dmitri Chekoff and Artur Petrov. They're hired muscle for the Russian mob in New York City. Apparently Keaton's had contact with them before related to a money laundering case in 08'. They match the general height, and weight of the two men in the video, and Patterson was able to partially identify a tattoo on one of the suspect's necks. It appears to be a match to Dmitri Chekoff's tattoo."

"Have we been able to locate them?" He asked immediately, his gut churning.

"No, they've been AWOL for a little over a week," She replied, looking down at her file for a second, "The agents who interviewed some of their associates reports that the last anyone heard of them they'd gotten a big job and said they were going to be away for some time."

"Sounds like our guys, were you able to trace their cellphones?" He asked, but he already knew the answer.

"No, they appeared to have shut off within range of the area Patterson already identified." She met his eyes, she seemed to be trying for sympathy but for some reason it felt forced. Awkward. Kurt looked away.

"Okay, were you able to find anything else?" Reade asked, sensing Kurt's mood.

"No, we're still working on decrypting the access line he used to send us the video. But that could take anywhere from five more minutes to five more days. He knows what he's doing, and even with our technology it isn't easy."

So basically they had nothing, unless Reade's lead panned out they were no closer to finding Jane than they had been 36 hours ago. God, he couldn't fail her, and yet here he was doing exactly that.

These were the moments when he hated being assistant director. He wanted to be out there kicking down doors, demanding answers, doing something other than trying to coordinate things from behind his desk.

He hadn't felt his useless in years.

Gesturing for Reade to follow him he left her office without another word. He didn't want to be in an enclosed space with her right now. Didn't want to be an enclosed space with anyone but Jane at the moment.

"Weller," Reade said quietly, reaching out to touch his shoulder when they got into the hallway, "We're going to find her, okay?"

He nodded, "I know," He replied, even as his gut clenched tighter with fear that they wouldn't. Hadn't they let her down enough? At this point they had no option but to find her. Or they'd all have to live with the guilt.

"Do you?" Reade questioned, "Because it seems to me like you're giving up."

"I'm not giving up," He barked, shaking Reade's hand off, "But what can I do? We have no leads, nothing!"

"Patterson is working on it, Naz is working on it, and we are working on it. It seems like nothing, but right now we have a lead on possible locations. You need to stay focused," Reade told him firmly, his voice hard, and his eyes unsympathetic. "Jane needs you."

"Do you think I don't know that? Maybe if we'd paid more attention to her she'd still be here right now." Kurt snarled, the anger he'd been holding back coursing through him.

Reade had opened his mouth to respond, but another voice cut through the tension, "Not to interrupt whatever this is, but Patterson has something."

Zapata looked at them both, her eyes narrowed and her hands on her hips, "Well, are you coming or not?" She asked, turning on her heels with a roll of her eyes and stalking towards Patterson's lab.

Apparently, Patterson had texted Naz, as she appeared almost directly after them.

"What did you find?" He asked, but Patterson only pointed behind her at the screen her body had partially hidden from him as he walked in.

His eyes moved to the screen, and immediately his heart stopped. On the screen Jane was being fastened into a chair, in a different room this time, he could tell from her face that she knew what was about to happen. Somehow that only made it worse.

When Keaton started talking, Kurt could have sworn they could have heard a pin drop in the room. Every one of them turning to look at Naz as Keaton told Jane about her part in what had happened to her before she'd escaped.

Before he could think he'd crossed the room and had her fists wrapped in her shirt. He shoved her against the wall behind him, he heard Patterson inhale sharply but no one moved to stop him as he shook her, "Is it true?" He asked in a deathly calm.

"Weller-Kurt, please," She said, her hands coming up to try to push him away, "It isn't what you think?"

"Then what is it?" He demanded, his fury unrelenting. This was the woman he'd taken into his bed, the one he'd turned to when his world seemed to be crumbling around him.

"I should have told you," She started.

"Yeah you should have bitch," Zapata snarled from somewhere behind him.

"I didn't think it was relevant-"

Again she was interrupted, "How was this not relevant? You knew the CIA had her, you knew what they'd done to her, you took a part in it," He shook her again at the last part. God, how stupid could he have been to fall for her act?

"We needed the information, I was trying to stop sandstorm," She tried to rationalize, "I didn't know Jane then."

"So, it was okay to do that to someone as long as you don't know them?" Patterson asked behind him, disgust clear in her voice.

"I was doing my job," She shot back, seeming unrepentant. God, what had he seen in her? All along his gut had said he couldn't trust her. But he'd rushed in, desperate for something to cling to.

He released her, not even trying to hide his own disgust at her actions, "For all the good that did anyone, what did you learn in those months that would have justified what you helped them do to her?"

She had nothing to say, simply staring at him, staring at them with those cold brown eyes.

Keaton's laugh pulled their attention back to the screen before he could say anything more. Kurt turned his back on her, focusing entirely on Jane as Keaton leaned down to 'whisper' into her ears. He felt sick, again Jane didn't look like she doubted for a second that they would enjoy watching him torture her.

Then it started.

He actually felt the bile climb up his throat as he watched her sieze in the chair. The restraints around her wrists tears at the tender skin beneath them as she flailed in the chair.

The whine she let out made him want to cry with her.

But she seemed to hold strong for the first few shocks. Distantly he heard Patterson's muffled cries, but unlike before she didn't look away.

He saw Zapata rush towards the trashcan out of the corner of his eye when Jane seized so hard in the chair that her shoulder popped out of socket with a sickening crunch. But he could only watch in horror.

Then she started screaming, and he felt the tears he'd held back leaking out of his eyes. The guard they'd put in her mouth muffled them, but he'd never heard her scream. Never in all the time they'd spend together. No matter how badly she'd been injured or how bad the circumstance she'd never screamed like that.

It broke his heart.

Blood started to leak out of her nose but still Keaton kept turning the dial. Jane flailing sporadically even when the electricity stopped for a brief second. Her muscles unable to keep up with the strain they were under.

Finally, he heard one of the guard shout at Keaton, "Stop if you don't want to kill her now."

Keaton seemed to come out of his daze, Jane however looked like a zombie, spit and blood leaking out of the corner of her mouth. Her limbs twitching, and her eyes gazing unseeing into the opposite wall. He felt fear break over the surface of his horror.

Had Keaton destroyed her?

He could only watch, helpless, as he waited for her to show any signs of life. Any sign that what made Jane, Jane still lingered in her battered body.

It felt like hours, and then she started to blink. He felt lighted with relief, he had no idea what he'd do if they rescued her body but were unable to rescue her mind.

She'd only just started blinking, but still seemed completely out of it when Keaton pulled back and hit her across the face.

That seemed to snap her out of her daze at least a little bit more, but she still seemed confused. Her body must have gone into shock, unable to process what was happening to her.

She tried to say something but it came out as garbled gibberish.

Keaton seemed to perk up though, greeting Jane as if they were on a date, before calling for some water.

He could only imagine how thirsty she must be. God, had she been given anything to drink or eat since she'd been taken. He doubted it.

"Oh my god," Patterson whispered as the man returned with a huge bucket of water, only to throw it over Jane causing her to throw her arms up. Though her right arm hung unresponsive, the dislocation only more evident, her face tightened in pain. He could only imagine the pain she was in. What state they would find her in…if they ever found her.

Keaton asked her a question, and Kurt had to fight a smile when Jane managed to choke out "Fuck you"

That's his girl.

Then she spit in Keaton's face, and he felt his temporary giddiness fade. Keaton reacted immediately, punching her with a force that made his face hurt in sympathy. Any friendliness in his expression replaced with the kind of hatred he'd only seen a few times before. Fear coiled around his heart when Keaton smiled and demanded they bring something in.

All of them saw her face fall as a tub full of water came into view, and they felt their own fears heighten.

When Keaton grabbed her by the hair, and whispered something to her Kurt knew. This time he'd made no attempt to let the video pick up his words. Whatever he said to her he didn't want them to hear. That made Kurt terrified.

Still, he felt surprised and sick when Keaton violently shoved Jane's head beneath the water. He didn't breathe again until her head was pulled from the water.

She gasped so desperately for air, but she'd barely gotten two breaths in before her head was shoved under again.

He wanted to beg, cry, plead, anything to make Keaton stop. Over and over and over again he shoved her head under the water pulling her up at the last possible second.

Jane's resistance became less and less, her body unable to fight after everything it had been through.

"Please Jane," He felt himself whisper the words, but he couldn't stop them. He watched, his eyes searching every time her head went under. Looking for her limbs to twist, to twitch, any sign that she's still alive still fighting. With each new dunk those signs became harder to find.

Just when he thought she would give up. Keaton stopped, and he felt himself take his first conscious breath since it began. He shoved Jane to the ground and Kurt could hardly look as her body fought to expel all the liquid it had taken in.

Her limbs still twitched from the electricity, and he could only imagine how painful it must be for her as her stomach muscle clenched trying to force the water out. She vomited for what felt like hours. Coughing and gasping in the moments between her body still greedy for oxygen.

Then Keaton started shouting at her, "Is that all Jane? The last of your resistance? Are you finally ready to give in? What do you have left to fight for? There is literally no one on this earth who would miss you. Not one. The world would be a better place without you."

Kurt begged Jane to argue, pleaded for her to know that they did care. They would miss her, all of them would. He could not imagine his life without her.

But his felt shame, and self loathing burn him as she simply hung her head and coughed out "I know."

In that moment he almost looked away, the defeat and self loathing in her face, in her posture destroyed him. They had done this to her. He had done this to her. The woman he had once professed to love.

He didn't have to look besides him and behind him to know their faces all looked the same. Except for maybe Naz, they all felt the same guilt. The same self loathing that they had done this to a friend. To someone they all cared about.

Keaton kept talking, kicking her as idly as one kicks an old can or a rock walking home as a child.

Then he watched in mounting horror as Jane simply shut down. The light in her eyes simply disappearing. He watched the fiery, determined, impossibly compassionate woman he love-had loved fade away.

Patterson's sobs reached a new height, and he had to force himself to ignore them. His own tears now dried to his face.

If Jane couldn't be strong, he would be strong for her. He felt a new determination build inside of him. Reade had been right, they would find her, and they would fix this. The video cut off as Jane was hoisted onto one of the men's shoulders.

The lab fell silent except for Patterson's sobs in its absence.

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to center himself before he turned to look at them all, "Jane needs us, now more than ever, to be strong. Patterson, I need you to double down on the wife's properties. Zapata help her if you can, Reade you're with me we're going to make some more calls." He paused before forcing her name past his lips, "Naz you need to break the video down and see if there's anything there that could help us narrow down their location. Or give us more information into what he plans to do with her."

He looked at them, watching them pull it together before his eyes. Patterson still sobbing, had already begun typing furiously at one of the computer, Zapata moving to man the station beside her, Reade casually touching both of them on the shoulder as he moved to stand besides Kurt. Naz had already disappeared from the room.

Together they could do this.

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Almost two hours later he heard a shout from Patterson's lab.

Adrenaline coursed through his system, as he and Reade leapt from their seats and bolted to the lab.

When they got there Zapata and Patterson were hugging.

When Patterson saw them enter over Zapata's shoulder she smiled.

Pulling away from Zapata she told them.

"We know where they are."

Kurt nearly fell to his knees.

"Where?"

"His wife, Barbara Brown's, father inherited a rather large hunting lodge in Up state New York. Which just so happened to have a series of bomb shelters built beneath it in the 50's. It also happens to fall directly inside the area we were able to trace Keaton's last call too."

"Let's move," Kurt told them, his smile fading as he got ready for what was to come. It would take them almost six hours to get there from here and they had no idea what they were walking into.

"Patterson call for back-up we'll need at least two full teams with us."

Then he moved, Reade and Zapata following behind him as he went to gear up.

They were going to get to Jane back.

Then they were going to make Keaton pay.

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Feel free to let me know what you guys think! I tried my best to capture Kurt's mood at the moment, but I think I'll get the chance to dive even deeper into his feelings in later chapters! We have a long road left to ride! So let me know if anything felt good or f anything felt off! I'm always looking to improve my characters :)


	7. Chapter 7

Hey yall!

Fair warning this chapter is going to bounce around a bit POV wise, in fact the next chapter or two will do the same. As I feel like in this moment, it makes sense to hear from more than one main character. Also this is the LAST chapter to have any physical torture scenes excepting work related violence they may be exposed to as FBI agents. But this is where the mental angst is really going to set in. The team may finally ahve found Jane but they have a long ways to go before they're able to heal whats been broken between them!

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and next chapter you'll see the results of BOTH the polls I've put out previously! ;)

Also next chapter I'll have another poll for you all! I like asking you guys questions, because not ony goes it give you guys the chance ot get your opinions but also you guy have great ideas! Which I've totally utilized in the story already!

THANK YOU again for the lovely reviews, faves and follows! you guys are the single most amazing readers in the world! I love you all more than I could possibly say!

Love,

Fallen

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He watched her, laying placidly on the floor exactly where Artur had dropped her almost 4 hours ago. He enjoyed seeing her like this. She reminded him of a discarded doll, staring at nothing, eyes unblinking. But for what he had in store he needed her wide awake, he wanted to look into her big green eyes and watch all the light fade.

He wouldn't be satisfied until he'd broken her completely. He wanted her to have no safe place to retreat, her life should be nothing but hellfire and pain until _he_ ended it.

He wondered what her precious team would think when they saw what he was about to do to her. Again, he felt something akin to sadness that he couldn't be there to see their faces. He imagined it would be something close to a work of art. All horror and anguish, guilt nipping like dogs at their feet.

But it didn't matter, he'd get to see her face, even she couldn't hide from pain like this.

Something about burning always broke them. He'd used it as a last resort for most people. Sometimes it simply turned them incoherent, useless, and that's no good when you're looking for information.

But he didn't need information from her. Not this time.

He called out for Dmitri, when the dull oaf finally appeared he told him simply, "Send Artur to the cell, we're going to wake her up, and you get it ready."

The idiot nodded his head, and then lumbered out of the room. He couldn't wait to put a bullet in his head when this all ended. Do society a boon by taking one more moron off the streets.

When he'd given Dmitri enough time to get out of his sight, he exited his observation room after flicking on the video in Jane's cell and then headed in.

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Jane floated in the water of the lake she'd constructed in her mind. She'd never gone so deep, her feet almost brushing the sandy bottom, but she felt at peace surrounded by water on all sides.

Unlike…out there, here in this place she could breathe easy, no water rushed to fill her lungs or choked her as she inhaled. No in her mind she's safe in the water again. Here nothing but the slightly pressure of the depth bothered her.

She could almost pretend that nothing awaited her if she swam to the surface. She could ignore the distant feeling of pain and discomfort.

She's created this lake months ago when her torture first began, and she'd taught herself to sink below the surface like a stone. Until she could escape from all the things that she didn't want to face.

Here, floating, pain truly became a dream.

She no longer felt it.

Instead, she felt peace, a feeling so unfamiliar it had taking her sometime to decode what it meant in the beginning. But now she knew, and even though she understood that there would be no second chance for her to obtain this same feeling outside of this raggedy shelter she'd constructed. It made her feel better to imagine a life where she felt this every day.

She closed her eyes, letting the water tickle her eye lashing, and brush against her lips.

Just as she'd finally started to settle in, the water began to quiver, as if something disturbed it at the surface. She forced her eyes open, feeling dread curl in her stomach. She's safe here. She's supposed to be safe here.

She tilted her head back, and looked above. Clouds, dark and ominous hung above the water, lightning rippling through them.

 _Get out of the water,_ her mind whispered. Lightning and water didn't mix. But she didn't want to leave. The surface meant pain…she didn't want to be in pain anymore.

Lightning struck the water.

Pain, which had been so distant, rippled across her body.

She tried to sink deeper into the water, but there wasn't any further to sink.

Lightning hit again. Her body burned.

Dread weighed her down, but she couldn't stay here. So she kicked off the bottom, and moved towards the surface. Lightning striking again and again.

 _She had to get out._

As she broke the surface her eyes opened and this time she took in the cell around her. Keaton and one of his thugs stood in front of her.

She didn't allow herself to flinch when she noticed that cattle prod Keaton held, nor when he moved to press it into her side again.

But he stopped just short of contact, "Ah, hello Jane, nice to have you back with us again. You had us worried there for a second."

She just glared, throat too raw for her to say any of the things she wanted to. She had to stick to the plan, and so she forced herself to her knees, ignoring the dead weight that her right arm had become. Keaton clearly didn't intend to pop her shoulder back into place.

"Now Jane, I have a special treat for you, it's being prepared as we speak," The pure delight in his tone sent the hairs on the back of her neck straight up.

"Oh don't give me that look, you're going to love it, I promise," She forced herself to maintain eye contact even as she wished desperately to close her eyes and never open them again.

"Take care of the shoulder, and then get her ready." Keaton ordered, his voice hard as he looked back at the man behind him.

Jane forced her muscles to stay limb and relaxed, her should had been out of place for a few hours at least. This wasn't going to be a fun experience but tensing would make it worse.

When the man approached Jane stared, making sure he had no choice but to meet her eyes. She doubted it bothered him either way but she wanted him to know. He grabbed her arm roughly, shooting pain up her arm, and then with no warning shoved it back into its socket.

She bit her lips so hard they bled, but she didn't scream. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Not when she'd been unable to control the urge earlier.

Before she had a chance to process this new discomfort, his hands grabbed her wrists and cuffed her. Pulling her up by the cuffs he dragged her until she stood under the hook she'd hung from before. Then he fastened the handcuffs to a chain and threw them over the hook.

Though unlike before he positioned her so that she faced away from the camera. She didn't understand. But the burn of her shoulder distracted her mind from the question.

Keaton's footsteps echoed behind her, and she turned her head to watch his approach. He waited until he stood in front of her to open his mouth again, "As much as I'd love to be the one to do this, I decided that I would much rather watch your face when it happens. So take a deep breath Jane and do your best to look at me."

She heard someone else enter the room, and she felt fear, true fear build inside her stomach. Keaton only smiled, the same manic look in his eyes as that very first time.

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"We're five minutes out Patterson, has thermal imaging picked anything up?" Kurt barked into his communicator, fists white against the steering wheel as he pushed the SUV to new speeds.

"It looks like the scanning picked up four heat signatures, all located in the same room in the basement of the compound," Patterson relayed, sounding harried.

"Do you have any other information that might help us?" He inquired, trying to soften his tone. Patterson was one of the strongest women he's ever met but she hadn't been handling this situation well.

"I mean, you guys already have the blue prints, and know the fastest way into the compound. I'm trying to see if I can find anything else but at the moment I'm coming up empty-" She paused for a second, "Oh, and Naz and I were able to disable the alarms around the perimeter. For all his smarts, Keaton left kept he same security firm that father-in-law had used. So once we knew where he was it didn't take much work to take care of that. He may still have other things in place, so be on your guard when you guys get there."

Kurt nodded, "Good to know, thank you Patterson."

He couldn't help but feel tense. They were so close and yet somehow it still felt like they would never make it there in time.

Another minute passed, and then his coms came to life again, "Kurt, are you there?" Patterson called out, and this time her voice shook.

"What's happening?"

"Another video just popped up," Patterson replied, and instantly the tension in the car doubled. Kurt pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

"What's happening on the video right now?" Reade asked, glancing at Kurt from the passenger seat.

"They're stringing her back up, but they positioned her away from the camera this time."

"Patterson, I need you to focus, where in the room are they all right now?" Kurt asked, trying to suppress the rage that simmered in his stomach. They were so close.

"Keaton is standing in front of Jane, either Dmitri or Roman is behind her. I don't know where the other is."

"Okay, how close are they to the door?"

"Jane and Keaton are the further away, maybe 10-15 feet from the door, Dmitri/Artur is maybe 6 feet from the door." Patterson responded.

They pulled onto a dirt road, and Kurt knew they were maybe a minute or two at the most from the lodge.

"Oh my god," Patterson sounded stricken.

"Patterson, what's happening?"

"Guys hurry, oh my god," Patterson sounded as if she were crying again, "Oh my god, hurry please." Her voice broke on the last word.

"Patterson," He yelled into the comms, "What is happening?" When he saw the lodge he slammed on the breaks, throwing his door open and jumping out. Reade and Zapata were behind them. He didn't even pause to wait for backup, just raced up the stairs and kicked the door in.

Patterson's cries were the only thing they heard as they raced down the hallway towards the door that they knew would lead to the basement Jane was being kept.

"Stop them, please stop them," Patterson practically screamed into their ears. All of them felt the adrenaline kick starting their hearts.

Kurt crashed into the basement door, practically tumbling down the basement stairs in his haste, Reade and Zapata were steps behind him. When he hit the landing he forced himself to slow down, gun held at the ready. There were three doors between them and the room they knew Jane, Keaton and the other two were in.

He gestured for Reade and Zapata to take the two doors closest to him, while he went for the third, he heard voices coming from the room at the end of the hall. But he knew that if they failed to clear these rooms and something happened it would be on their heads.

They all opened their doors at once, tensed and ready to fire. But all of them relaxed in the same moments, rooms empty.

When they all echoed clear over the comms, they turned towards the door at the end, Kurt in the lead.

"On three," He said quietly as they advanced down the hall, he knew at least two of them were armed. Keaton would be the wild card though. The two thugs were nothing they hadn't handled before, and he wouldn't let them keep him from her.

Nothing would keep him from getting her back.

Nothing.

He burst into the door, his eyes taking in the horror scene in front of him, at the exact moment the screams hit his ears. His gun was out and pointing firmly at the four in front of him but he felt frozen.

Jane's screams seemed to go on, Patterson shriek replaced by shuttering sobs and wheezing breaths as he stared.

"FBI drop the weapon," Reade shouted behind him, his voice betraying his feelings.

Kurt still hadn't looked away from the scene in front of him, Artur or Dmitri, his brain couldn't differentiate held a glowing orange brand to Jane's back. The smell of her burning flesh tickled his nose and he felt bile hit the back of his throat.

Keaton had drawn closer to Jane, something in his left hand drifted to her neck, even as his eyes remained locked on hers. He seemed to be in ecstasy, her screams like an aphrodisiac to him, and Kurt found his focus.

"Put it down," He barked, finding his voice.

The Russian not holding the poker, pulled a gun out of his jacket but before he could move Kurt shot him.

"Put the poker down and step away from her now," Kurt barked again, to his relief the remaining Russian dropped the poker and stepped away from Jane.

"On your knees hands on your head, now," He heard Zapata call as she came up to flank him on the left, and then stepped forward to cuff the man before pushing him to the ground.

He forced his gaze away from the hot white burn covering where his name used to be on her back, the sudden silence in the absence of her screams almost jarring.

"It's over Keaton, Step away from her and we can take you in," Kurt told the man, anger making his voice shake.

Keaton just smiled taking a single step closer to Jane, till he was almost plastered to her front, "No, _Assistant director_ Weller, I don't think I will. See Jane, and I, we have something special. I'm not ready for that to be over, do you understand? So, put your guns down or I'll end it," The smile evaporated, and he stared them down with eyes that radiated a level of insanity Kurt hadn't seen in sometime.

He saw Reade lowering his gun out of the corner of his eyes, and felt himself doing the same. Zapata followed not soon after, "Good job, I see you all can listen to directions, maybe the FBI isn't completely useless."

Kurt gritted his teeth, "Give her to us Keaton, we all know this is only going to end with you in cuffs. Why draw this out?"

"See, that's the problem with you FBI dogs, you always think that there's only one way for things to go. But there are so many different possibilities, like for example, I could use this knife to slit Janie's throat, and force you to shoot me." He pressed the tip of the blade a little harder into Jane's neck until a single bead of blood welled up and slipped down the length of the blade.

Kurt shook his head, "Keaton, its over."

He strained to hear Jane, she'd hadn't made a sound since the poker fell to the floor, and the brand fell from her skin. Though her skin seemed to scream for her, as the burn grew worse and worse looking in front of his eyes.

Keaton seemed to consider, and it seemed he reached a decision when he violently shoved Jane to the ground. Before they could blink he ran towards them knife raised, Kurt pulled his gun up and shot him in the shoulder dropping him just feet from them. He wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of death. No he would rot away in prison for the rest of his life if Kurt had any say in it.

He doubted prison would be kind to him.

But any thoughts of Keaton vanished, as he holstered his gun and rushed to Jane's side. She'd fallen onto her back, but she hadn't moved. She simply stared ahead, unblinking as she had in that first terrible video, "Jane, Jane please," Kurt whispered, kneeling besides her to feel for a pulse.

Even when his eyes took in the shallow rise and fall of her chest he didn't feel reassured until he felt the faint beat of her heart against his fingertip.

"Get a bus here now," Kurt ordered over the comms.

"They should be arriving now," Patterson managed to choke out, her voice ragged in his ear.

He reached down to take her hand in hers, trying to be careful of her injuries but there were so many. God, how had he let this happen?

"Jane, please, Jane, we're here. We came for you, I came for you," He found himself telling her, begging for those green eyes to look at him. To do anything but stare so lifelessly at the wall next to them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had to fight the urge to draw his gun. He hadn't even felt Zapata and Reade come up behind him.

"Kurt, the EMT's need to get to her, you need to let her go," Zapata sounded so young in that moment, vulnerable in a way he had almost never heard from her.

He understood, but he couldn't force his fingers to let go of hers, "I can't," He whispered, unable to hide the sudden vulnerability that he felt.

"Weller, you have to move," This time Reade spoke to him, and the hand on his shoulder moved to wrap around his arm, pulling him up and away from her.

As he blinked, strangers moved between him and Jane, surrounding her in a flutter of activity. Until he couldn't see anything but uniforms surrounding him.

"Kurt, they said that one of us could ride with her to the hospital, do you want to go?" Zapata asked, again the youthful quality of her tone surprised him.

"I-I yes" He managed to get out, but even as he agreed Naz's voice filled the comms. The rage he'd felt earlier returning again. Jane no longer in his sight to numb any feeling but relief.

"Kurt, the director wants to debrief with you immediately. He wants you in his office as soon as you get back to the city."

"Are you serious?" He barked into his comms, watching the men in front of him bustle about Jane, they were readying her for transport. He thought he heard the words airvac, and fear erupted.

He looked at Reade, and Zapata, Reade already moving towards one of the men in uniform understanding the silent question. Zapata moved closer to him, as if to offer comfort in this moment, as they watched and waited.

"I'm sorry Kurt, but you need to ask one of the others to accompany her. The director didn't want to hear excuses."

"Go Kurt," Zapata told him, making sure it wouldn't be over heard on the comm line, "I'll go with Jane to the hospital, you just go and debrief. The faster you do it, the faster you can come and join us while we wait for her to get better."

She said it like there was no doubt in her head that Jane would be fine, that they would be there when she woke up. He wished he felt that confident, but as the adrenaline faded the scene they'd walked into played again and again in his mind. Her scream echoed in his mind like a gunshot, he didn't know if he'd ever forget it.

"Excuse me?" One of the EMT's accompanied by Reade approached them, temporarily pulling Kurt from those thoughts, "Are any of you intending to ride with us? The Helicopter will be here any minute and we need to get her outside. So if any of you are coming now's the time."

Kurt closed his eyes wearily, hating himself even before the words were forced from his lips, "Zapata go with her, Reade, you and I will drive back to headquarters. Then I want you to go straight to the hospital, I'll meet you all there as soon as the debriefing ends."

He hated Naz for making him make this choice, he hated the director for his impatience. But most of all he hated himself. He should be there. He should be the one at her side. He should be the one holding her hand while they worked to keep her stable.

Instead he was abandoning her again.

By the time he opened his eyes Zapata had left his side, and he watched as the team of EMTS shuffled Jane out of the room, her body limb on the board they carried her on. He hated seeing her look so lifeless, when Jane always seemed to exude the kind of life that drew others too her in the same moment it made them envy her spirit.

Now she looked like a corpse.

Again the image of the fiery hot brand on her skin came to his mind.

Jane would forever have that monsters name on her body, he could only imagine the scar that it would leave. The letters thick and the iron so hot it had appeared white when they'd burst into the room.

God.

If they'd been there only moments earlier they could have prevented it.

How many times would they fail her before they finally got it right?

"Kurt, we don't need to be here for the rest of this," Reade prodded gently, his hand once again found its way to Kurt's shoulder. A reassurance he didn't deserve.

But he nodded anyone, "Let's go," the faster they left, the faster he could debrief and get to Jane's side.

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Patterson sat at her desk, trying to calm the panic attack the branding had sparked. But she couldn't seem to slow her breath, tears sliding down her face, clouding her vision and increasing her panic.

"Agent Patterson?" Dr. Borden's voice sounded like it came from somewhere besides her, but she couldn't lift her eyes to see his face.

She tried to respond, but she couldn't get enough air to speak.

"Patterson, breathe with me, please," His voice came again, this time his hand came to her shoulder. A warm weight, it gave her something to focus on. For the next five minutes he talked her through a series of breathing exercises until at last she felt her breath even out. The terror receding from her mind as she finally took in enough air.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, unable to look up and meet his eyes. Any bravery that had enabled her to sit there and watch the video, to watch so in some way Jane wouldn't be alone had vanished. God, Jane, how could they do that?

Before her brain could slip down the rabbit hole again, she felt Borden's fingers press beneath her chin, "Ashely, look at me, and breathe."

She complied, her eyes instantly finding his, her lungs forced to take in more air, "I-I-I, h-how could they do that?" She finally choked out, more tears slipping down her cheeks.

He simply shook his head, "I'm afraid there is no easy answer for that, if there were I think we would be in a different place right now."

He paused, and looked at her more intently, "But Agen-Ashley right now we can't focus on the why, we need to focus on how we can help Jane now."

She nodded, eyes widening even as more tears slipped free, "I need to get to the hospital."

He nodded, "Do you want me to drive you?"

She hesitated but in the end she nodded, she shouldn't drive in her condition, and she needed to be there. Jane shouldn't have to wake up alone.

She stood then, bracing herself against her desk at the wave of dizziness that hit, "I need to get my things together, and then we can go." She whispered, still unable to muster the energy to speak any louder.

He nodded, "I'll wait here, and we can leave as soon as you're ready."

Twenty minutes later they were walking out of the building, and within the hour they'd made it to the hospital.

Borden dropped her off while he parked, and she rushed to the nearest information desk to ask if Jane had arrived yet.

"It looks like she'd scheduled to arrive within the hour, but she'd headed straight for the OR. Then she'll either be transferred to the PCU or the ICU."

"Why is she going to the OR?" Patterson questioned, her anxiety moving up at the news.

"Are you related?"

"No we are coworkers," Patterson replied.

"Then I'm sorry we can't give you that information, but I will put a note in her chart that you guys are here. You can go ahead and wait on the third floor, the ICU and the PCU are on that floor. They should have more information for you in the next few hours."

Patterson nodded, and in a daze she moved to the elevator. She mechanically texted Borden to let him know what she'd learned, but she felt like her body was on autopilot.

She didn't come to, not when Borden came to sit beside her or other families cycled in and out of the waiting room. But then she heard a familiar voice, "Patterson, Borden, they took her back to surgery but I'm not really sure why. The EMT's weren't very talkative."

"Zapata," Patterson breathed, immediately up and wrapping the woman in a hug. When her arms came up to wrap around her, she felt herself relax, "I'm scared," She confessed into her collar.

"I know, me too," Zapata whispered back, before maneuvering them into a seat besides Borden.

"Where are the others?"

"Reade will be here soon, but Naz and the director are forcing Kurt to debrief now. So I don't know when he'll be here," Patterson felt the anger with which Zapata spat the other woman's name in her gut. She couldn't believe she'd worked with, almost began to trust, someone who had a hand in torturing her friend for months. She hadn't had time to process the realization, but she knew that they would all have to deal with it sooner rather than later. She couldn't imagine having to work with Naz now. When Jane's life was on the line it was one thing but now. She didn't think she could.

"Poor Kurt," She murmured, "IT must be killing him not to be here."

Zapata could only nod.

After that they all sat in silence, waiting for news, Reade joined them almost an hour after Zapata.

Then they sat, their vigil only beginning.

It wouldn't be till hours later that they got any news.

Kurt still hadn't appeared.

But it looked as if Jane had survived the surgery, but they'd moved her straight to the ICU. The nurse told them firmly that only one non-family member could be in the room at a time.

They decided then that they would take shifts.

Patterson volunteered to take the first shift, while the others went home or camped out in the waiting room to get some sleep.

When she made it to Jane's room she suddenly wished that she hadn't of volunteered. She stood frozen in the door, she didn't know if she could do this without the rest of them here to give her strength.

Jane, beautiful, strong Jane, looked absolutely broken in the bed. The hospital gown could have belonged to a man three times her size for how much extra fabric pulled around her thin frame. It looked as if every inch of her body was covered in gauze of some sort.

The only exposed skin black and blue from bruises.

Though she'd been sedated, Jane looked far from peaceful, her brows furrowed and her mouth tense. As if she were waiting for the next blow, or steeling herself for her next punishment.

Seeing her like this made Patterson feel sick to her stomach.

 _Had she looked like this the first time she escaped?_ She wondered, even as she regretted allowing her mind to go there. Thinking to how they'd treated her when she'd come back Patterson felt disgust coil in her gut.

When had it all gone so wrong?

She forced herself to go the rest of the way into the room, pulling the seat in the corner beside the bed, and carefully taking one of Jane's hands in hers.

How had she never noticed how thin she'd gotten? Her hand felt impossibly delicate in Patterson's, like a baby bird, one wrong move and she'd break it.

"Oh Jane, we're so sorry," She whispered, tears slipping free again as she stared at her friends brutalized face, "I'm so sorry, please wake up, please."

But nothing changed.

So she watched.

She hadn't been able to protect Jane from this, but she would keep her safe now.

So she did.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys,

I won't lie to you guys, I did receive a few negative reviews about the last chapter and I had a few moments of doubt in my own private space about the direction I had taken this story. But to be honest I love this story, and I love these characters! I am sorry to anyone who thought that I took thing too far but I had that scene planned before I even wrote the first chapter. And I did my best to make not capitalize on the scene for shock factor, to be as respectful about it as possible.

Anyways, for the rest of you guys who were happy with the chapter, and are waiting to see what happens next I promise there is happy things coming! We do have to get through the emotional angst of healing, it won't be a straight line, and even as Jane & the team get better, there will be relapses. But there is 100% going to be a happy ending!

Also to my one review who was interested in Patterson/Jane, I did intend for this to be a Jeller fic but you've inspired me to write a little something for the two of them! So keep an eye out! :)

Now, this chapter is going to be another multi-POV, and as stated in the last authors note the DECISIOn about the polls will both be in this chapter! Hopefully most of you are happy with how it turns out!

Lots of love, for all the reviews, negative and positive, they help me find my way as an author and a creator! So thank you for sticking with me and being the absolute best reviewers and encouragers on the planet!

Love,

Fallen! 3

P.S. To those of you who stuck up for me, or said nice things to me in the light of the negative things THANK YOU! I truly do believe in people's right to express their opinion, but I wish they would have pmed me or even posted their thoughts in a way I could have personally responded. But that was their decision. Thank you again for reading, and being such lovely people! To have four negative reviews out of almost 160, is nothing! And it's all thanks to you guys!

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Kurt was about to lose his mind, it had been almost eight hours and they'd done nothing but ask him asinine questions about the last four days.

Naz had joined the director and him in the debrief and he couldn't help but feel that she'd done all this to keep him from being at Jane's bedside. Where he belonged. He felt more and more disgusted at himself for ever becoming involved with someone who clearly put so little value in human life.

Once he had respected her ability to compartmentalize, to separate her feeling from their situations. But now he saw the truth, she simply didn't care, she'd lied to their faces since the beginning. He doubted she'd spoken a single true word to them outside of her want to take sandstorm down. Ironic, he thought, how he had crucified Jane for lying and yet he himself got in bed with a true liar. Someone who lied with the intent to deceive.

"With all due respect sir, I have an agent in the hospital and I should be there. I've told you everything there is to know about the last four day," Kurt interrupted whatever Naz had just been telling the director.

"Agent Weller-," The director began, his face sympathetic, but Naz interrupted.

"Assistant director Weller, we have to talk about this, without Jane our entire operation is in danger," Naz seemed to implore the director to listen to her.

The director looked at him, and Kurt knew he'd have to answer, "Director, I know that things are fragile, but Jane is the strongest person I know. Yet, she'd been through hell, and right now she needs proof that she isn't alone. The team and I are the only family she has, and I should be there with them right now. There isn't a mission without her, and Agent Naz seems to forget that Jane is a person not a robot," Kurt told him, trying to keep emotions out of thing but feeling his voice raising as he spoke.

He'd never been good at handling himself in situations where the people he cared about were in danger or hurt.

The director nodded, "I think you both have valid points-"

"Are you serious? Now is not the time to let emotions get in our way, even now Sandstorm could be looking for Jane. We have no idea if they've tried to contact her or reach out to her. OR what they might be thinking about the fact that she isn't where she's supposed to be. If you really cared for her, you'd be more concerned with ensuring that we have a plan, trust me."

Kurt couldn't hide his feeling, "Trust you? What have you done to earn my trust Naz?"

Suddenly it all came spilling out, "First I discover that you've been bugging the headquarters, listening in on all our conversations. Then we discover that you worked with the CIA to help them torture Jane, and that you came into our sphere lying from the start. We have no idea what, if anything you've told us since you got here is true. Half your plans are half-assed suicide missions for the person you claim is your greatest asset. So tell me, Naz, do you really want Jane to survive this or are you just trying to finish what you started in more ways than one?"

The director's face had grown darker and darker with every word out of Kurt's mouth, "Bugging the FBI, and working with the CIA under our noses, Agent Naz explain yourself."

For the first time in knowing her, Naz actually looked like she hadn't anticipated events, "I-I-Director it isn't what you think, I swear."

The director just shook his head, "Somehow I doubt that very much Agent Naz, Assistant director, you're dismissed. Go check on Jane Doe, and extend my sympathies to her. The Agency looks after our own," His voice seemly to imply that Naz no longer fell under that umbrella, "And we will do whatever we can to help her in her recovery."

Kurt nodded, "Thank you director."

As he exited his office, he heard the directors voice raising as he spoke to Naz. But he pushed it out of his mind, he had more important thing to deal with. HE felt his heart rate spike, as he thought about how long Jane had been there without him.

He practically ran to the elevators.

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Tasha tentatively knocked on Jane's hospital room door, "Patterson?" She whispered as she opened the door, "Are you in here?"

"Yep, she's still asleep, come in," Patterson replied, her tear stained face coming into view as Tasha moved the curtain aside and stepped fully into the room. Her eyes moved from Patterson's face, trailing her hand to where it grasped one of Janes, and all the way to Jane herself. She had to hold back her own tears when she finally laid eyes on Jane's face.

The bruises looked even more spectacular in person, and Jane looked so tiny in the hospital bed. Like a broken doll.

Tasha felt the wave of guilt that had been building since Jane went missing grow stronger. What had she done? She'd been hurt, and angry, dealing with so many other things that had nothing to do with Jane. Yet she'd taken it all out on her. It had seemed so easy.

Now she had to face the consequences. She only hoped it wasn't too late to make amends for her actions.

"Has she woke up at all?" She asked Patterson, moving to stand besides Jane's bed, her own hand gravitating to Janes.

Patterson just shook her head, fresh tears rolling down her face, "They don't know when she will, but they say she will."

Tasha wanted to hug Patterson as her voice broke, but she could let go of Jane's hand. She hadn't seen her since they rolled her off the helicopter, and she's sat there staring after the bed in a trance. The adrenaline had been so high on the flight that she hadn't gotten a chance to really think about everything that happened.

Now she had all the time in the world.

"They still won't let more than one of us in here?" Patterson asked her.

She shook her head, "No, but hopefully when Kurt gets here he can set them straight."

Patterson nodded, standing and carefully releasing Jane's hand, "Okay, I'll be out in the lobby," Tasha knew Patterson wouldn't be able to leave the hospital till Jane did. She didn't know if any of them would. Reade and Borden were camped together in the lobby, and she knew they would welcome Patterson Company.

Tasha released Jane's hand for a second to pull Patterson into a hug as she walked by, "It's going to be okay, we're going to get through this."

Patterson just clung to her for a second, her arms squeezing her with more force than she would have anticipated, but it made Tasha feel safe more than anything. They were stronger together. They would show that to Jane again. They would.

All too quickly the hug was over, and Patterson left Tasha alone with Jane.

She had a moment of panic, she of all people didn't deserve to be here. Jane wouldn't want her here not after everything.

But then she reminded herself that Jane, even after all she'd done, still tried. If Jane could, than Tasha could. So she steeled herself, taking a breath and moving to occupy the chair that Patterson had vacated.

Taking Jane's hand again as she sat down, "I don't know if you can hear me Jane, but it's Tasha, I'm here for you. We're all here for you, and we aren't leaving you again." Her voice broke.

How do you apologize to someone for months of cruelty? She didn't think you could. But she had to try.

"Jane, I-" She tried, "Jane, I'm so sorry, I really am. I let myself become someone I'm not proud of these last few months. I felt so angry, so betrayed, so hurt and so lost that I couldn't handle it. After you were taken away, I felt shocked, we were friends, and then Kurt told us it had all been an act. I didn't deal with it, I just pushed it to the back of my mind along with all the others things I couldn't handle at the time. Then you came back, and confirmed what we'd all thought about Mayfair's disappearance."

She had to stop, tears choking her, and when she continued her voice broke, "It all just came back, all the things I'd been trying to hide from, and there you were. Jane, you were an easy target, and so willing to take the abuse. I just couldn't stop myself, every time I opened my mouth around you I spewed it all at you."

God she really had been a monster.

"I know it was wrong, God, I know it was. But it's the truth, and I won't pretend to be better than I was. But Jane, please, know that I am sorry. God, I am just so sorry," She couldn't hold her head up against the weight anymore and she dropped it on the bed beside their clasped hands.

This time the tears were too much to continue. She just couldn't stop picturing Jane's body, covered in scars, and her own face as she told Jane every awful, terrible thing that came to her mind. She'd tortured Jane the same as those monsters at the CIA.

She just did it with words. But she of all people knew sometimes that could be a worse pain.

Even when Jane had gone missing, she had wanted to assume the worst, if for no other reason that it fit in with what she HAD to believe of Jane. She had to believe Jane to be the worst kind of person so that she could justify her treatment of her.

She had no idea how long she lay there, holding Jane's hand and crying when she felt one of Jane's fingers twitch in hers.

Immediately she sat up, "Jane?" She whispered, hopeful and afraid all at once. If Jane were going to wake up, she shouldn't be the one here for that. She wanted to run out of the room, to bring Patterson back or grab Borden. Or better yet to drive to the FBI building and drag Kurt out of whatever meeting they'd forced him into.

Any of them would be better than her. But here she was.

She heard Jane's heart monitor start to beat, and she glanced at it seeing Jane's heart beat start to skyrocket. Her breath coming quicker and quicker as her eyes lids fluttered.

"Jane? Jane, it's okay, you're safe. You're in the hospital," Tasha rushed to say, gently holding Jane's hand tighter within her own. Trying to give her an anchor.

Without warning, Jane sat straight up, seemingly not feeling the pain of her injuries. Her eyes flew around the room, confusion and fear cutting across her features.

"Jane, please, it's me Tasha," She tried again, and her voice seemed to watch Jane's attention. Her gaze shifted to Tasha's, but she didn't seem to recognize her. The heart monitor continued to beep alarms into the air, and Jane tried to sit up all the way.

She looked even more panicked when she met the resistance of her IV, and when she tried to tug her hand away out of Tasha's she looked even more alarmed when it didn't immediately do what she wanted.

Tasha could hear the nurses coming towards the room, but had a feeling they would only make things worse. She let go of Jane's hand, and slowly, so slowly moved her hands towards Jane.

At the movement, Jane flinched as if expecting to be hit, but didn't try to move away. When Tasha's hands touched her face, her eye twitched and her shoulders tensed but she still didn't move away.

Gently, so gently, Tasha moved Jane's face until their eyes met again, "Jane, I know you're in there, please it Tasha. Please wake up," She didn't think she could stand to look at the terror on her face for a second more.

Jane's eyes searched her face, something like recognition in her face, but still she couldn't' seem to pinpoint who Tasha was. But the beeping on her heart monitor seemed less shrill, which Tasha took as a sign to keep talking.

"Jane, we got you away from there, we came for you. We never stopped looking for you, and we found you. Okay? You're safe with us," Jane's hand came up to touch one of Tasha's hands, wrapping around her wrist. It didn't seem like a way for her to defend herself, more like she was trying to ground herself.

Jane looked like she was trying to speak, but before she could two nurses threw open the curtain. Immediately, Tasha knew any progress she'd made to be lost.

The sound startled Jane, and she tore her face away from Tasha's fingers, Tasha didn't need to look to know that heart monitor would show her pulse sky rocketing again.

Jane seemed to revert to survival mode, ripping out her IV in one swift motion, and moving to get out of bed.

Chaos erupted around them as the nurses tried to stop her, and Jane lashed out. Tasha could only watch in shock as one of the nurses went down, a bruise already forming on her face.

"Jane, no, they're here to help," She shouted, pulling herself together and getting out of the chair to rush around the bed to try to help.

"Back up," She shouted at the nurse still standing, "She's confused and scared, you're making it worse."

She approached Jane slowly, hands up, Jane stood in the center of the room, looking scared but her whole body looked posed for a fight. Though Tasha could see her body trembling at the strain of keeping her standing. She knew the pain would have to be astronomical, no pain med could keep her from feeling everything now.

"Jane, please, it's okay," She repeated like a mantra as she inched closer to the woman. Her eyes taking in the dotting on blood on her gown. And the blood still leaking from her IV site.

She didn't know how long Jane looked at her, before she finally spoke, "Tasha?" Her voice sounded brittle, and it looked like it pained her to utter that one word.

She nearly collapsed in relief, "Yes, Jane, it's me," Just one more step and she would be besides Jane. Just one more step.

Jane looked as if she were going to speak again, but her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to fall.

Tasha was able to catch her, to lower her gently to the floor, and she looked at the two nurses. One posed to go get security, the other still sitting on the floor where Jane had thrown her cradling her bruised face, "Some help please?"

Well, it could have been worse, her brain whispered to her, as she helped the nurses lift Jane back into bed.

But she had hoped it would be better.

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Kurt had been on his way to the hospital, when Patterson text him, _Could you stop by Jane's place on your way over. I feel like having some of her own clothing might be comforting to her._

He hadn't wanted to agree, but he knew they would need everything they could get their hands on to help her. If Patterson thought it would help, he would do it. So, he turned his car around, and drove towards Jane's safe house.

By the time he got there it has started to rain, he ran up the steps to her building as quickly as he could. Shoving the key in, opening the door, and stepping into the house without checking his surroundings.

So, suffice to say he was completely caught off guard by the cool press of steel to the back of his neck, and the angry voice hissing in his ear, "Where is she? What have you done to her?"

He went with his gut, trying to stem the adrenaline begging him to do more than talk, "Roman I'm guessing?"

The man huffed a laugh, pressing the gun harder into his neck, "Just answer the question, _Agent Weller_."

Kurt didn't need to be a rocket scientist to tell what Roman thought of him, "She's in the hospital,"

"What do you mean she's at the hospital," Roman removed the gun, turning him to face him, only to slam him into the door behind him. Kurt thought his eyes looked just like Jane's, even as they promised to do unspeakable things to him, "Tell me now!"

Kurt couldn't hold his gaze, "She was taken by someone, held captive and tortured, we only just got her back."

Roman's hands withdrew from his body, and Kurt looked up in time to see the man crumbling. Just like Jane his face gave away his every though and Kurt knew the pain on his face was no ruse.

"You were supposed to protect her," Roman screamed at him, tears glistening on his cheeks, "She was supposed to be safe with you."

Kurt didn't know what to say, everything Roman said was the truth. They were supposed to keep Jane safe and they had failed her.

"Does Shepard know she's gone?" He asked, only because Jane could be in more danger if she did.

Roman shook his head, "She doesn't know I'm here, she wouldn't have let me come if she knew I intended to come here."

Kurt felt relief hit him like a freight train, "How long have you been here?"

"I've been looking for her for the last three days, I-" He looked like he wanted to say more but he stopped himself.

Kurt thought suddenly, to the conversation Jane, he and Naz had about Roman. Wondered, if he really would be turnable, "I can take you to her."

Roman looked at him as if he were seeing him for the first time, but Kurt saw the fear in his eyes. He didn't doubt Roman's mind already wondered what Kurt would want in exchange.

"Jane needs you," In different circumstance one of them would be in cuffs or dead, but for Jane it seemed they were both going against their nature. "I'll make sure no one asks questions."

Maybe Roman read his eyes as easily as Kurt had read his because he nodded, "Yes, I want to see her. I want to see my sister."

"Come with me then, I'll have to tell my team but they'll be able to help me get you in." Kurt told him, reaching for his phone, "I promise, I trust them with my life." He reassured Roman when he read his hesitation.

"For Jane," Roman said, and Kurt heard the _anything_ that followed even if it went unsaid. Kurt understood the feeling, and he knew then what Jane meant. Roman, reminded him painfully of Jane, but Kurt doubted he had anyone to steer him in the right direction.

He nodded, and dialed Patterson's number. If anyone could help him get a fugitive into a hospital, no doubt being closely monitored by the NSA and who knows who else it would be her.

He'd started this terrified, but for the first time things felt like they were looking up. His gut told him Roman could be exactly what Jane needed. Someone who wanted nothing from her. Someone she cared about deeply, and who _she_ knew felt the same.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey Guys!

Once again you guys are the FREAKING BEST! Seriously, you guys are my champions! I really couldn't write this story without you. Thank you for very much for all the kind words and encouragement! I needed it!

But, back to business, I actually had a few reviews point out some things to me! One of them being that Kurt totally gave away Jane's mole status, but for my story purposes I'm just going to clarify some things about MY Roman :)

My Roman had gone to Jane's apartment, just like show Roman, after finding out that Jane was the mole. But, in my version, Roman has been doubting Shepard and her organization since she erased Jane's memory. He'd been lost without Jane for all that time, and now that she's back it all makes sense again. So, when he discovers that Jane's the Mole, instead of telling Shepard (like I can infer that show Roman did), he'd gone to talk with her, because if she'd chosen the FBI over them he knew there had to be a good reason. So, I think he's ready to switch sides in my story, and he chose his sister 100%.

So, I'm playing that up a bit in my story! We might see a bit of Roman taking over Jane's position as the double agent for a bit! Haven't decided for sure, but I do know that I want to maintain a sandstorm story line, but that it will be later on as things with Jane start to cool down.

So I hope that clear things up a bit for the people who caught that! :)

Also POLLLLLLLLLLLLLL TIME!

This weeks poll is all about the MOLE!

In the next chapter would you guys like to see:

A. A Kurt and Jane scene

B. A Roman and Jane Scene

C. A Reade and Jane scene

D. A Naz and Jane scene for a slightly more angst scene

E. A scene played out between members of the Team and Roman while Jane sleeps

F. A scene play out between Roman and Naz when he interrupts Option D?

Either way, this will just be one scene of many in the next chapter, but I wanted to see if there might be a particular interaction you guys were hankering for! IF I DIDN'T cover a interaction you guys would like to see, feel free to make a suggestion!

-Love love love love,

Fallen

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The steady beep of a machine, and the quiet hum of voices stirred Jane from the distant part of her mind she'd fled to.

But she tried to resist. Tried to fight her minds attempt to pull her back to herself.

She didn't want to go back.

She wanted to stay.

Safe.

She wanted to be safe.

She didn't want to go back there.

To the world that had only brought her pain.

But it seemed her mind no longer accepted her desires. Instead it pushed her closer and closer to the surface.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she came back to her body, it didn't take long for it all to come back. Her entire body burned, ached with the kind of pain that drilled into the back of your head until you could think of nothing but it. At first she couldn't separate the pain into parts, her mind scrambling to assess the stimulants it had ignored for so long. But soon she could pin-point the sensations.

She could trace her injuries, she forced her breath to stay stead and her eyes to stay closed, as she worked her way across her body.

The worst pain came from her back but she ignored it. She didn't want to remember why her back hurt, and so she instead focused on everything else. The slices that traces like pencil marks across her, the electrical burns, the bruises, her shoulder, the burn of her lungs. All of it.

She hadn't ever really thought she'd be beautiful again after her first stay with the CIA but now she knew it to be true.

 _Please, just let it be over with._ She wondered if she could trick Keaton forever, just stay asleep and away from his greedy fingers.

Far away from that smile he gave her every time he broke a little piece of her.

Then she felt a hand encircled her wrists, and she couldn't help herself.

Maybe if she fought back he'd lose it. Maybe that would be what it took for him to put her down like the rapid dog he'd made her.

She jerked up, eyes flying open, and her fist making contact with flesh. If it weren't for the pain that rocketed through her system at the movement she might have felt satisfied. Instead, she tore her wrist free, and looked frantically around the room he'd taken her too.

But the lights blinded her, she couldn't see and she could hear people shouting at her. She couldn't make sense of everything around her.

More hands were grabbing her. Touching her.

She shoved them away, rolling away, but instead of solid ground she met air. She fell off the edge of what must have been a table, she didn't know, she didn't bother to try to figure it out.

Something ripped out of her arm as she hit the floor, but she hardly felt it. Her whole body screamed at her. It took everything in her to push herself back to her feet. But she couldn't stand straight, her body swaying as it tried to keep her up right.

She waited for one of them to touch her. Waited for the bite of electricity or the string of a slap against her cheek. But nothing came.

People were talking to her but she couldn't understand.

She felt overwhelmed confused.

She blinked, trying to clear her vision but it just felt like a haze. Nothing felt real. Where was Keaton? Where was she?

She stared down at her hands, and found them shaking, blood tricking down her right arms and dropping to the floor. She couldn't help but watch it.

"Jane," She looked up, five people were scattered in front of her. She instinctively took a step back. Then another, and another until her face bumped into a wall behind her.

She bite back a scream when her back hit the wall. It felt like fire burst in her head, burning away everything but the pain for what felt like hours.

She felt her legs give way beneath her but she couldn't pull herself away from it.

"Please," she croaked, her hands coming up to fist in her hair, "Please, make it stop."

"Jane, please, it's us," A woman…it sounded like a woman whispering to her from across a tunnel. Her voice so faint that Jane could barely make it out.

But it gave her something to latch onto. Something to help her separate herself from the fire. She looked up, her vision obscured by the pieces of her hair that escaped her grasp, but she could only make out the shape of a familiar face as the woman knelt in front of her. She left almost two feet of space between them, but it still make Jane feel cornered.

Safe. Her mind whispered to her but she couldn't stop herself from hunching in.

"Jane, please, it's me," The woman spoke again, her voice clearer than it had before but still fighting to be heard over the distant roar of pain in Jane's head.

Jane forced herself to look at the woman, really look at her, her face…she knew that face. But her mind couldn't connect the face to her memories. She knew her. She did.

"Jane its me," The woman urged, her voice quaking, and Jane watched a tear escape from the corner of one of her bright blue eyes and slide down her cheek, "Please, come back to us."

One of the people behind the woman shifted, and Jane tore her eyes away to watch them. But no one else moved, and she slide her eyes back to the woman.

"Patterson?" The name had bubbled up to her, and she uttered it without thinking.

The woman smiled, more tears leaking down her cheeks, "Yes, Jane, it's me, will you please come get back into bed?"

Jane looked at the woman silently, and just like the name it all suddenly slotted into place. She knew Patterson.

And suddenly she felt afraid.

"You have to go," She whispered, her hands untangling from her hair to reach forward and grasp Patterson's hands. She didn't care that her skin pulled with every move, nor that her back burned or her stomach pulled. No she had to make her listen, "please, he'll be back soon. You have to go."

Patterson only looked at her confused, "Jane, what are you talking about?"

Jane's hands tightened around hers, "You have to go, please," she would let him drag her through the street, let him do anything as long as she could keep Patterson safe, "Please, he'll hurt you," she choked out.

"It's not safe," She pleaded.

"Oh, god, Jane no," Patterson stammered, "Jane, he's gone. Keaton's in a prison, you're safe, you're safe."

Jane felt her brain shut down. She could only stare at Patterson.

 _Safe?_

 _How many times had she been safe?_

 _Had she ever been?_

"Jane," Patterson whispered, her hands turning in Jane's to wrap around them, "we're all here. He is never going to touch you again."

She shook her head, she knew better than to believe such a thing.

She had before.

Look where that got her.

"Jane," Another one of them spoke, her eyes flittered around the room taking in all the face around her, Reade, Zapata, Kurt, before she landed on the person who'd spoken.

"Roman?" She breathed. Her world narrowed until she only saw him. She didn't want to think about the team's presence there. Patterson at least she understood.

"I'm here," He told her as he approached to kneel besides Patterson, "Jane, you need get up, you shouldn't be out of bed."

He extended a hand to her, and she released Patterson's hands to put her hands in his.

Roman would protect them.

But when she tried to stand her legs refused to support her weight.

"It's okay Jane, we got you," Roman whispered to her, carefully he picked her up. Somehow he avoided touching it when he placed his hands on her back, but her body still throbbed at the movement.

The team parted like the sea as he walked by to place her back in bed.

The team.

She wondered if they were here to berate her for being taken. To question her motives.

She had failed them. She understood. She closed her eyes and waited for it to begin. The endless parade of recriminations and attacks. She'd weathered so many storms, what was one more? But even the thought felt tiring.

She was tired. Tired of it all.

"The nurse is coming to bring you more pain medication Jane, and you pulled out your IV again," Kurt told her, and she waited for what would come next. But no angry words or accusations slide out of his mouth.

She opened her eyes to look at him, to ensure that he really was there.

Roman was here, so she wondered if this was just a dream. She wondered if she'd close her eyes again and wake up back in that room.

God.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't go back there.

"Jane, you need to calm down," Roman commanded, his hand grabbing hers again.

But she couldn't. Her breath quickened, and her heart hammered.

She couldn't.

Distantly she heard someone else enter the room, but she was too far gone to care. She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

She frantically looked around the room. But again it had dissolved into a blur. Her brain working too hard, too fast to take it all in.

Someone barked out an order, and someone, maybe more than one someone, had started crying. But something bit her neck and she felt darkness descend upon her.

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"This can't keep happening," Zapata murmured into the silence that had fallen upon them after the nurse left. They all stood frozen around Jane's bed watching her slumped form, "That's the fifth time she's pulled her IV out, if she keeps doing this she'll never heal."

"What do you suggest we do?" Weller asked, unable to keep his own frustration and anger out of his voice.

"I don't know," Zapata replied, "But this isn't working."

She saw Kurt open his mouth, but Roman beat him too it, "I suggest we get her out of here, she'll never settle here, she needs to be somewhere she feels safe. Somewhere that's familiar to her."

She wanted to argue, she didn't trust him, Jane she could admit she'd been wrong about but Roman's a wild card. At this point though she had to agree with him, Jane only seemed to get worse here. It took them longer and longer to get through to her each time she awoke. Her disorientation more frightening each time her eyes opened.

She wondered if Kurt would have a bruise on his cheek to rival Jane's, she hadn't pulled the first punch.

Not that it mattered. Kurt could handle himself.

"But where would Jane feel safe?" Patterson asked, pulling her from her thoughts, "Her safe house is where she got kidnapped, the FBI hasn't exactly been home to her lately, her old safe house is where she got arrested. I mean is there anywhere else?"

She hadn't even thought of that. Jesus. She needed to be better if she had any chance of helping Jane.

"She could stay in my spare room, Roman you could come as well," Kurt suggested, his eyes dark with uncertainty.

"If Roman gets to come, I should get to too, Jane responds the best to us," Patterson burst out, Zapata couldn't even think of an argument. Patterson had been the only one of them to truly be kind to Jane since her return. And, much though she didn't trust him, Roman's Jane's brother. That meant something. It had to.

But, still, she didn't want to be left out, not anymore, "Well, I want to be there too, Jane needs us all."

Right now it was only the beginning of a plan. But she knew they would figure it out. There were so many details to contemplate if they were going to make this work.

No, they were going to make this work. She knew that. She trusted that they would figure this out. They had to, because she didn't know how many more times she could watch Jane like this.

She didn't even know how much more Jane's body could take. Every time it seemed like it took a bigger toll on her body. Ripping the IV's out, pulling stitches, and opening her healing wounds. It couldn't continue.

"If we're going to do this, we need to figure it out now, we can't keep sedating her. It's not right," she told them all.

They all looked at Jane and nodded. The conversation started, differences pushed to the side in that moment, because they had a common goal.

For now it didn't matter who they were.

For now only Jane mattered.


	10. Chapter 10

Hey guys,

Sorry I know I promise Friday but sadly I ended up working 14hrs on Friday and by the time I got home I just passed the hell out! But I promise as we speak I'm working on the next chapter! So you'll be seeing very regular updates from here on out! Also thank you for everyone who wished me luck on my finals! I passed them all with A's and am now on my way to my 2nd to last semester of nursing school!

So, this chapter I decided to go with the teams POV again. Next chapter we will see the results of the last survey! You'll see a few different interactions from the poll, as I Really couldn't pick just one!

We won't get much from Jane's point of view but next chapter I promise! I've been having to think really long and hard about how Jane is going to handle this. Personally, I think just like the first time she's going to try to bottle it all up and put on this brave front. But I imagine that this second torture would be something that triggers all those pent up feelings from those first three months with the CIA that she has clearly not dealt with.

So, my Jane is going to be an incredibly dual natured beast, she's still going to be the KICK ass woman we know her as but she's also going to be startlingly vulnerable. To me that just seems to be what would happen? As I've researched into torture survivors, it seems like PTSD and Depression are two of the biggest things they suffer from. And that they can be incredibly damaged if they bottle everything up! So, it's going to be so hard for Jane, who doesn't trust anyone despite her desperate need for someone to talk to. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that she's going to be struggling but she's going to try to put on a brave face for everyone even as her demons try to eat her alive.

Tell me what you think about my thoughts, if there's anything you'd like to add or anything you don't agree with feel free to hit me up with a PM or a Comment. I will reply to you J

Anyways, I'm talking way too much at this point!

THANK YOU as always for how great you guys are to me! I LOVE you all from the bottom of my heart!

Sincerely,

Fallen

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It had been 36 hours since they'd taken Jane from the hospital and to his apartment. A full five days since they'd rescued her from that hell hole but to Kurt it felt like it had been decades. Somehow he'd convinced himself that if they got her to his apartment, somewhere safe, it would all just magically fix itself.

But if anything it had only gotten worse. Jane refused to talk to anyone of them outside a few sparse words about returning to her safe house and going back to work. She seemed hell bent on pretending that nothing had happened.

Roman seemed to be the only person who could get her to talk to him but even then he never shared what they talked about. Though, from what Kurt could gather, it seemed like Jane had finally told Roman the truth about where she'd been those three months. As Roman's death glare seemed to have intensified three-fold around everyone but Patterson.

He wondered if they talked about the childhood that Jane could hardly remember. Sometimes he'd walk in to check on Jane's IV feeding or to bring her some water and find them both looking a little glassy eyed. He knew better than to comment on it but he hoped they were finding a way to heal from all their traumas.

The only time he saw Roman exhibiting any emotions aside from loathing and anger seemed were when he interacted with Jane. The gentle look on his face seemed almost foreign in light of how he reacted around the team.

Though he seemed to like Patterson, he wondered if in some way she reminded him of someone else. Or maybe he just found big bright eyes hard to look at in anger. Both Jane and Patterson had those ridiculously big eyes. Before everything had happened, he'd found it hard to look at either of them with anger.

Maybe that's why he'd just tried not to look at Jane after she'd come back.

He wished he had now. Maybe things would be different. Maybe he'd be the one at her bedside, bringing that small, fragile smile to the surface instead of eliciting only dread and a stoic mask.

He'd begun to think that all the maybe's and regrets were going to drown him if he didn't find a way to move past them. But how could he move past them when the evidence of his mistakes lay in the bedroom across from his.

He didn't know what to do to fix things. He didn't know a lot of things anymore.

"Kurt, we have to go if we're going to make the meeting with Pellington," Tasha's voice pulled him from his trace.

He looked up from the coffee he'd been staring at for god knows how long, "You're right, I'll get Roman, Patterson you're staying with Jane."

"I know Weller, we've only talked about this fifty times. You guys are only going to be gone for a few hours at most, I'll be here with Jane. Nothing's going to happen, Kurt, okay? So just hurry up and go, so you can hurry up and come back," Patterson smiled at him, her eyes dancing, it couldn't be clearer that she thought he was being paranoid.

Kurt had no response that wouldn't prove her right, so he turned around and went down the hall to Jane's room to retrieve Roman. He knocked on the door, waited five seconds and then cracked it open, "Roman, it's time."

The man in question looked up from his place at Jane's bedside, his massive hands cradling her's as if they were made of glass. But as soon as he saw Kurt, the gentleness faded and cold indifference took its place. As always the look reminded Kurt that someone out there wanted him to pay for his mistakes as badly as he did. He wondered if Roman would ever get his chance.

Roman turned back to Jane after giving him a concise nod, "I'll be back Jane," the two of them seemed to share a loaded look but Kurt could never decipher their looks. But Jane seemed tired, and Kurt wouldn't be surprised if she passed out relatively quickly after they left. Her doctor had advised them that her body was in a severe state, and it would desperately try to heal itself. So Jane slept frequently though out the day, though she often awoke from what he assumed were nightmares.

They'd kept her on the IV nutrition, and IV fluids, but the nurse that visited everyday seemed to think they would start weaning her off of it soon. Though she warned them it would be a bit of a process, as her stomach hadn't had to digest something in sometime. So, her body would have to adjust to it slowly, and IV nutrition could be dangerous when it came to discontinuing it.

"Let's go," Roman told him as he stood, releasing Jane's hand and setting it back down on the mattress. He gave his sister a small smile, before he walked to the door and pushed passed Kurt. He strode down the hall towards Patterson, and Kurt couldn't seem to make his legs work fast enough to catch up to him. He thought about saying something to Jane but he knew it would only upset her. So he forced himself back down the hall to deal with Roman.

He felt surprise, when he noticed that Roman had taken Patterson's arm, but though he seemed serious he handled her as gently as he handled Jane, "Keep her safe, promise me," Roman's eyes were so intense that Kurt wondered if he needed to intervene.

But again, Patterson surprised him, she placed her hand on top of Romans and looked him square in the eye, her blue eyes filled with sincerity, "I will, I promise."

Roman seemed satisfied by this, as he nodded and released her. He looked at Kurt and the rest of them distain back in his eyes, "I'm ready."

Kurt thought he'd seem at least a little affected by the meeting that would decide his fate, but instead he seemed as uninterested in this as he seemed to be about everything.

He nodded, as he led them all to the front door and down to the car. It would be a long car ride to the FBI, Roman's presence seemed to kill everyone's desire to talk. As he had a tendency to turn anything they said into a scathing remark on their characters.

Forty-five minutes of tense silence later they pulled into the FBI garage. They then went to the director's personal elevator. No one could know who they had with them or why they had him here.

"Pellington is going to seem like a hard ass, but he knows we need you," Kurt found himself telling Roman as they entered the elevator.

Roman scoffed, "I've dealt with worse, you don't need to worry _Agent_ I know my value."

"We're just trying to help you," Zapata snapped, clearly done with the tension and the attitude.

"No, you're trying to help yourselves," Roman snapped back, his eyes flashing as he bared his teeth.

Zapata deflated, even if she wanted to reply what could any of them say that would convince him what he said was wrong?

Thankfully, they were saved from the oppressive tension by the ding of the elevator and the opening of the doors. This area of the floor had been cleared and Patterson had ensured that no one would be able to hack into the security cameras. Even though Roman assured them that Shepard believed him to be on a mission, they weren't taking any chances.

Especially when Roman had revealed that they had a mole in the FBI, though he didn't know their name. Only that it was someone with access to the team and their files.

As they approached his office, Pellington appeared, opening the door and gesturing them in, "We have exactly two hours before people come back to this area. As far as the bureau is concerned this is routine sweep for bugs."

Kurt nodded, "Understood." They all filed in and sat at the conference table with Pellington at the head.

"Now, explain to me why I should grant a criminal of his level clemency," Pellington cut right to the chase. Kurt had always respected that about him.

Roman responded before Kurt could address his questions, "You'll do it because you need me. Unlike my sister, I know the inner working of _Sandstorm_ , and I can help you take them down in a matter of weeks."

Pellington nodded at him to continue, clearly intrigued, the FBI could use a win and this would be a big one. Pellington would never have to worry about losing his position in the agency if he managed to take down one of the biggest terrorist threats they'd face in-country since 9/11.

"I can tell you word for word Shepard's plans, hand you the major players, and give you locations on the majority of our bases. I know our weaknesses and our strengths, I could tell you when we're vulnerable and how best to destroy us."

"So, what do you want for this information and your assistance in taking down Sandstorm," Pellington asked.

"My sister and I are going to need immunity, for everything we've done. I want social security cards, passports, licenses and ID for both of us. Jane will be paid the salary of your other agents with back pay for the time since she stepped out of that bag. A new safe house for us, a vehicle for transportation and the possibility of staying on after as liason's for the remaining tattoo cases. I have other demands but we can discuss those at a later date. This will need to be an open-ended negotiation. Also, I expect to be monetarily compensating for all the information I provide."

Kurt knew negotiations were about to begin, he wondered how much Pellington would be willing to give in and what he fight on. It seemed like the team wasn't really needed here, and his mind started to wonder. He hoped that Patterson and Jane were doing well.

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Patterson found herself talking quietly to Jane about her childhood as she knitted what she thought might end up being a scarf for the slender woman to wear as winter settled in around them.

"I always wanted siblings, ya know?" Patterson asked the sleepy woman, who nodded briefly even as her eyes slid shut. Patterson continued to talk though, she'd been doing research since Jane got back about torture survivors and she found that they often felt isolated from those around them. She had talked with Dr. Borden as well, trying to find out the best way they could help Jane. He had told her they just needed to be there for her, especially since she didn't trust them.

She felt like Jane appreciated having her there and talking to her. She had noticed that Jane's nightmares seemed less severe when she sat with her and talked. Which honestly, wasn't a hardship for her, she could talk the ears off an elephant.

She kept talking, telling Jane about growing up on a farm near buffalo, and how technology had been her most trusted friend. How discovering computers had made her realize that she had a purpose and she didn't have to be lonely anymore. Then moving to the city for school had showed here that there were other people like her out there. That there were people who thought her weirdness was unique and cool instead of freakish.

Somewhere on the way she noticed Jane had fallen asleep but she continued on. Letting her mind wonder as her mouth moved. She watched the steady rise and fall of her chest and resisted moving to brush one of her curls out of her face.

They'd learned the hard way not to touch Jane while she slept, and if she had a nightmare she knew now to speak to her instead of try to shake her awake. Still she set down her knitting and watched her as she continued to talk. Jane still looked so gaunt, and the bags under her eyes stood out starkly against the milk white of her skin. It made her heart stop every time she thought about how long they'd stood by and not noticed Jane's slow deterioration.

"I'm so sorry Jane," She whispered, tears gathering in her eyes as she took a second to compose herself. She'd always prided herself on being the best friend anyone could have. Maybe to make up for the fact she'd never really had friends growing up or maybe just to make sure they never decided being her friend wasn't worth it.

But she'd failed the one person who needed her most, the one person who needed a friend unlike any other, and now she didn't know if she'd ever have the chance to repair the damage she'd done.

She stopped herself there, and forced herself to continue to tell Jane funny snip-bits from her awkward childhood. Truly fodder for dreams without nightmares. Patterson truly had been an awkward child, she knew that, and she had many great tales to proof it.

She glanced at the small clock in the room and noticed that nearly and hour and a half had passed. The team should be home soon she hoped.

As if on que a faint knock sounded on the door, she stood quietly, and walked to the door of the room. Before she left she let her eyes settle on Jane once more, she slept soundly, her face unbothered by wrinkles or distress that typically indicated the start of a nightmare.

Assured, Patterson exited, and walked down the hall to open the door for the team. She pulled it open with a smile, "that didn't take you guys half as long-" The rest of the words died in her throat as she realized who stood at the door.

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Kurt looked at his watch, they had fifteen more minutes before they should start to leave. He'd given them a fifteen minute buffer time between their departure and the arrival of people back to the floor to ensure that Roman wasn't seen by anyone who might get word back to Shepard. The last thing they needed was Shepard discovering their plans and moving her operations before they could get a hold of her.

Pellington and Roman seemed to have figured out a temporary truce, all of Romans previous requests being met except for a vehicle and passports. Pellington had agreed that he would get them eventually but only after Sandstorm had been taken care of, something that Kurt understood. It wouldn't do to have Roman escape before they'd done what they had to do.

But he could tell that the meeting had drawn to a close, when Pellington stood and walked across the room to shake Roman's hand, "We have a deal, we'll set up a way for you to communicate with myself and the team remotely to lessen your chance of being identified by whoever the mole is. I'll begin digging into the history of all our employees and see if we can't identify the mole ourselves. Weller," Kurt looked at the director as he stood up, the team following his lead.

"Roman, will be entering the field with you on all sandstorm and tattoo related missions, and when Jane heals he tells me she wishes to return to her duties as well. So, you will need to figure out how to incorporate his skill set into your missions. Weller, in two days time Roman and I will need to meet again. We'll arrange the details later."

Kurt nodded, "Understood sir, but we need to leave now."

Pellington nodded, "I expect you in the office tomorrow, Weller, you all need to do your best to appear as normal as possible. We don't need to give anyone a reason to be suspicious about what's happening here."

Kurt nodded again, "Yes sir," Then he gestured for the others to start moving, he waited until everyone had exited before he followed them. He felt Pellingtons eyes on them as they walked by to the elevator and as the doors slide closed they exchanged a nod. Both of them would do what they needed to do to take Sandstorm down. But he knew that he might be the only one concerned about getting both Roman and Jane out the other end alive.

As they rode down he checked his phone to see if Patterson had sent any updates, but it showed no missed calls or texts. She usually sent them at least one text, but maybe she'd gotten distracted. He had no reason to worry yet, but still he felt off. His desire to get back to the apartment heightened.

He shot her a simle text asking how things were going. But he knew it could be up to ten minutes before they heard back from here.

"Everything alright, Weller," Reade spoke for the first time since they'd left the apartment.

"Just checking on Patterson and Jane," He responding, keeping his tone professional, there wasn't any reason to worry them.

Reade nodded, as they all strode off the elevator and got into the car, "What did Patterson say?"

"Nothing yet, but I'm sure she's just distracted." Kurt replied, tightly, as he started the car. Going just a little faster than necessary as he got onto the road.

"Do you want me to call her?" Reade asked, Kurt glanced back in the rear view mirror, and he saw the concern he felt mirrored on Reade's face. He also saw Roman's face tighten.

"No, we'll be there in thirty minutes," Kurt replied. Best to divert the tension in the car.

Still the next thirty minutes were wrought with tension, rising steadily as Patterson continued to remain silent on the other line.

When they finally pulled up to the apartment, they all got out of the car before it had even fully stopped. Thankfully his apartment was on the second floor so it didn't take them long to get up to it.

Immediately his sense were on high alert when he saw the door cracked.

He pushed it open carefully, Roman on his heels, his eyes survey the apartment for intruders. He made it into the entrance hall before he saw her.

Patterson lay on the floor in the hallway that lead to the bedrooms, from where he stood he couldn't tell if her chest was moving.

He approached, the team already fanning out to check the rest of the apartment, and Roman sticking besides him.

When they reached her, Roman crouched down besides Patterson and felt for her pulse. Kurt didn't know how the man beat him too it but he watched his face, his own heart pounding as he waited for him to find a pulse.

He saw relief flood Roman's eyes for a second before the iron curtain fell again, the man nodded. Relief coursed through his veins. HE didn't know what he would do it Patterson hadn't been breathing.

They'd left her alone and vulnerable. Why hadn't he requested that Pellington allow him to leave Reade and Zapata here. He knew that Patterson had been training since her kidnapping but months of training couldn't help her against anyone who had trained for years.

He turned and met Reade's eyes, gesturing for him to come attend to Patterson while they moved towards Jane's room.

He felt adrenaline course through his veins, as he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps coming from her room. In that moment, all animosity between them faded away as he and Roman made eye contact. Both of them focused on one thing.

He took a deep breath, nodding once to Roman, who readied a gun Kurt had no idea he had, and moved into position at his shoulder. Then he pushed the door open.

Somehow nothing prepared him for what he found there.

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Sorry to do this to you guys! But cliff hanger!

Anyways, I love you guys and the next chaper should be up within the next few days! I'm super excited for you guys to see it!

Okay, now for the next poll. This one's pretty easy!

Do you guys want to see Jane actively involved in Sandstorms take down? Or would you rather have that be a background plot point?

Lots of love!

Fallen!


	11. Chapter 11

Hey guys,

I'm so sorry I've failed you guys so completely lately and not updated recently! But I promise I'm going to do better from now on! I was on vacation for the last two weeks after my grueling semester in school, and I got to see my fiancé for the first time in nearly five months. So suffice to say I was distracted!

But here is the newest chapter, better late than never? I hope!

Seriously BIG thank you for everyone who has stuck with this story and stuck with me despite the wait! You guys are amazing and I promise I will not abandon this fic! It will finish, and there might even be a sequel!

So so so so much LOVE,

Fallen

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 _Two Hours Earlier_

Jane watched Roman leave the room, but did her best to ignore Kurt as he stood in the door. She no longer understood him or where they stood. He no longer made sense to her, and she felt confused by everything he'd done since rescuing her.

Better to let sleeping dogs lie.

Or so she told herself.

Instead she waited for Patterson to enter the room, Roman had promised that she would be the one staying with her while he went to the FBI. Patterson had become the only person aside from Roman that she felt comfortable around. She at least had been friendly before Jane had been abducted. The others, like Kurt, only confused her and upset her.

But she knew that soon she would have to push that away, if she were ever going to be allowed to go back to work and back to her safe house.

She needed to get away from them all. She needed things to go back to normal.

She needed to be back at work, there at least she could pretend nothing had changed. She could ignore the dull ache on her back, and pretend that she bore no scars at all. There she could disappear, no one looked at her or worried about her at the FBI. Instead it had appeared that she turned invisible, repelling people, and establishing a safe five foot parameter around her that no one dared to broach.

Here she felt exposed. Vulnerable. Weak. Helpless.

Exactly how she'd felt when he found her again. Here she was reduced to ash. Here she had no escape.

Here she sat day in and day out, listening to varying members of the team express sympathy or making idle chatter all the while she pretended to sleep or stared into the distance. Not that it seemed to stop them from trying to talk to her.

Even worse when the nurse came to poke and prod her. Updating Kurt and the others on her condition, expressing her concern and worry as if Jane couldn't hear her.

She kept pushing to have Jane taken off the IV fluids and nutrients.

So the last day or so the team had begun to wean her off them. Forcing her to drink water, and choke down broth.

They didn't know that every drop of water that pooled in her mouth and slithered down her throat felt as it were choking her. Every gulp felt as if it would replace the air in her lungs.

Each sip tasted exactly like what he drowned her in. Brackish and coopery like blood. Her blood.

But she couldn't tell them that. Couldn't show them any more weakness. Already they thought her little more than a victim. This would only make it worse.

So she forced herself to drink, even as it choked the life from her, and sent her straight back into hell.

She even forced herself to take some of the broth even though she hadn't felt true hunger in months. Even when her stomach clenched so painfully at the mere smell of it. Again, she had to show that she'd improved, else she feared that she would be stuck in this hell forever.

She couldn't be useless. Even with this new found empathy for what had happened to her, she knew that it would only extend so far.

But even worse than all that were Dr. Borden's visits. He seemed compelled to force her to reveal every tiny thing that had happened to her both the first time and this last time she'd been tortured. Where he'd nearly given up before he seemed invigorated and more frustrated by her lack of communication.

Why couldn't any of them understand that she just wanted to forget it all?

She didn't want to talk about being branded like cattle with that monsters name. She didn't want to think about the bite of hot iron and the way the pain nearly shattered her mind. She didn't want to talk about drownings or beatings or any of the hundred ways he found to turn her mind inside out with pain.

She almost wished she could get her hands on some of the drug they'd used on her in the beginning. Wipe herself again, and truly forget everything. Just go off and live a normal life away from it all.

But that was little more than a pipe dream. She knew that.

"Hey Jane, they're gone," Patterson greeted her as she entered the room, and moved to sit on the recliner by the bed. Jane forced herself to smile at the woman, though it became more genuine as she saw the blonde pull out knitting needles and produce enough yarn to make ten blankets from thin air. Patterson out of all them made Jane feel the calmest, something about the air she produced relaxed her.

And the fact that she never demanded anything or tried to apologize or excuse or explain. Patterson just talked to Jane, told her stories, both personal and fiction. Sometimes she just sat in silence, or played quiet music while they sat together.

It made Jane feel free. Free of expectations and reality.

It was nice.

Just as expected Patterson soon started talking, today telling her stories of her childhood, and Jane closed her eyes letting her mind paint the stories as Patterson told them.

She let her breathing even out, and pretended to sleep even as she watched the movie her mind created from Patterson's words.

She did this often, pretending to sleep while the team came in and out of her room. She knew it made them feel better that she rested. Knew the nurse had told them how much Jane needed it. In truth, she too knew that she needed to sleep but she couldn't.

Every time she closed her eyes and tried to sleep for real nightmares dragged her down. Encasing her in a hell she had no hope of escaping until blind panic awoke her. Or someone pulled her from them kicking and screaming.

Every time she slept she felt the kiss of iron, or the drag of a blade. She heard his voice, taunting her, reminding her who she belonged too and assuring her that this was reality that she'd never escape from him. Truthfully, sometimes she believed those words, waking up and imagining that she would find herself back in one of those rooms. Back with him.

Worse still were the dreams where the team stood in his place, smiling and laughing as she screamed endlessly.

It seemed her brain delighted in depriving her of peace.

But she found that the worst dreams were the dreams where she stood in a room of mirrors, naked, and unable to close her eyes. Forced instead to stare at her ruined body, and take in the endless scars. Forced to see his name branded in thick, roping letters on her back. Forced to look at her skeletal body, skin stretched so tight against bones that she almost thought she'd disappear. Her thinness only highlighting the scars, thick and thin that covered her.

Looking at herself made her feel sick.

A different type of torture. Looking back and realizing that the tattoos she so hated were beautiful compared to their replacements.

Seeing herself like that only reminded her that she would never be happy. No one would ever love such a disfigured monster. Even if they got past her body, they would have to face the blackness that marred her very core.

Truly she disgusted herself.

She forced herself to tune back into Patterson's story, the lure of another nightmares almost catching her unaware. She listened to Patterson's story about the time she'd been hit on by a drunk drag queen, forcing herself to return to painting her words instead of listening to her own.

If she had been less aware she might have laughed, giving herself away, but these days laughter felt foreign. Something she knew she'd experienced long ago, but something she no longer felt capable of. So, she stayed silent, continuing to feign sleep as Patterson continued to talk.

At one point, she stopped, and Jane heard the slight hitch in her breath. Then she spoke, her voice watered, "I'm so sorry Jane."

Jane only just stopped herself from flinching. For some reason those words always caused her pain. Patterson had nothing to apologize for she wanted to scream, only she had apologies to make. If she, Jane, had only been honest in the beginning, none of this would have happened.

She felt Patterson lean into the bed, and the slight displacement of air besides her face told her that Patterson had brought a hand up to her face. But thankfully Patterson didn't touch her, and instead she seemed to lean back in her chair. The slight creak of the frame as her weight resettled giving away her movement, and after a few hitched breaths she started another story.

Jane thanked her lucky stars.

So they settled into the rhythm, and Jane simply listened and waited. She knew that some time had to have past. Soon the team would get back and Roman would come back to her. Roman at least she could talk to.

He never asked questions, instead they talked about what she remembered and he tried to trigger her memories without feeding her anything. Borden had told them that she needed to remember on her own without others telling her things that had happened to her.

Roman, like Patterson, never wanted anything from her. Not forgiveness or reactions. He had been as content to talk with her as he had been to sit in silence holding her hand.

He was the only one whose touch didn't feel like an iron burning her skin. But even with him, she could only tolerate so much before her body tried to push him away.

She hated being touched.

Suddenly, a knock sounded on from the front of the apartment, and she heard Patterson stand.

Jane thought it unusual that the team would knock, but they set all sorts of weird precautions about the apartment. Changing the way they signaled that a friendly has arrived every day.

She thought it stupid, as someone who didn't belong wouldn't try to announce themselves. But she didn't say anything. Best not to contradict the people who were responsible for her fate.

Patterson opened the door quietly, as if she were trying not to wake Jane, and closed it just as quietly. Jane tracked her foot steps down the hall, and then in the entrance hall as she arrived at the door.

She heard Patterson speaking even as the front door creaked open. Then silence for almost a full minute. She felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up as she opened her eyes listening more intently.

Hushed angry voices replaced the silence abruptly, and Jane sat up. Contemplating whether or not she should attempt to go out there and see what was going on.

But surely if it were someone meaning harm they wouldn't have attempting conversation?

Three minutes, and then four ticked by as she listened to the hushed argument. Unable to parse out words or even really hear the voices well enough to try to identify who spoke.

Then suddenly the familiar sounds of violence reached her ears. The distinct sound of someone slamming against a wall, and then the sound of grappling.

She pushed the blankets aside, and pushed herself up so that her back lay against the headboard.

One last resounding thump sounded and then silence.

She knew better than to speak or make noise that might alert someone to her presence.

Instead she slowly slipped the IV out of her arm, and slithered out of the bed.

She might be weak but she wouldn't go down without a fight. She cursed herself for not insisting that they leave her a cell phone or asking for one of the others to stay behind as well.

She sent a prayer up that Patterson wasn't dead.

She didn't know if she could forgive herself if she was.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, someone was approaching the room.

She forced herself to stand, and walk silently to stand out of the sight of the door. There were no hiding spots inside the room, but she hoped to get an advantage over whoever might walk through those doors.

Every second counted and even in her current state she knew she'd be deadly. That would be at least one reason to be grateful for the fact she'd been trained from childhood to be a killer.

The footsteps stopped outside her door. Then the door knob slowly turned, and then the door creaked out quietly. So quietly.

Whoever had come hadn't come to talk to her.

She waited as the door slowly swung open, but when Naz appeared in the doorway looking absolutely wild she felt a moment of pure shock. Of all the people she'd imagined would be walking through that door, Naz hadn't even made the list.

She watched as the woman entered the room and scanned the immediate area. Anger crossed her face when she saw the bed unmade and the IV hanging unattached.

"Jane, where are you? I just want to talk," Naz voiced, her voice still as eerily calm as ever despite the crazed look in her eyes.

She knew that the woman would find her in a matter of seconds, so she stepped out of the shadows she'd been hiding in, "What did you do to Patterson, Naz? Why are you here?" she asked. Hoping to give herself some time to evaluate the situation.

She couldn't just kill Naz. No she had to stall. The team would be back soon. She knew it.

"Patterson's fine, I merely knocked her out when she got in my way," Naz told her dismissively, waving the hand that held her gun around before settling the gun on Jane, "I didn't come here to hurt her, you understand, I'm sure?"

Jane nodded, "Of course, as long as she's okay, why don't we get down to the reason you're here." After facing _him_ situations like this no longer scared her. She'd seen so much worse. In fact, a very real part of her wished Naz would just pull the trigger. She wasn't sure she even cared why the woman had come.

"Always to the point Jane, one of the only things I ever really liked about you, ya know?" Naz confided, as she took a step closer, "Now get on your knees, I'm not taking any chances with you, not now."

Jane complied, surely Naz realized that if she took just a few steps closer Jane could take her out even on her knees.

"I almost didn't come here, but I just couldn't let it go. You've ruined everything for me, I lost everything because of you. Kurt won't return my calls, apparently being involved with the CIAs interrogation of you makes me a monster. But that I could live with, but thanks to you I've lost my chance to take down sandstorm. If it weren't for me no one would even know they existed, and yet you get taken, suddenly a few bugs is just too much for the director." The longer the spoke the crazier she sounded, her hands twitching sporadically and spit spraying with every other word.

No one had even told Jane that Naz no longer worked with the task force. Would have been nice to know.

"I should have known better than to get the FBI involved after you escaped, I should have taken you right back to the CIA. But I thought I could control everything, and I did. Just a few more missions and you would have died just like you were supposed to. Leaving me with all the glory, and an untouched path to everything I ever wanted."

Jane had always thought Naz seemed to have little to no desire to see her to the end of the mission alive. Nice to have that thought confirmed.

"I'd played all my cards just right, and yet even then they all seemed to gravitate to you. Even when they hated you the most, something in them wanted to forgive you, and none of them seemed to want to trust me. Even Kurt took longer than I'd imagined to sway to my side, but I'd done it." Jane watched her take another step closer, the gun resuming its place in her face as the woman continued to rant at her. Jane wondered how much longer she'd have to wait. Either Naz would shoot her and this nightmare would be over or she'd take another step closer and Jane would fight.

She decided to leave it up to fate.

"Then you got kidnapped, and that stupid bastard told them that I'd been involved with your interrogation. Suddenly I'm a monster, incapable of feeling or compassion. Ironic, since if it weren't for your director you never would have been there in the first place. Even better that if any of them had done the least amount of homework they might have found you and stopped it."

"Is there a point to any of this?" She asked, she'd always disliked Naz, and if she had to listen to another second of her pointless raving she might do Naz a favor and off herself.

Immediately the woman stopped, glaring at her as if she could will Jane into dust, "The point is everything in my life is ruined thanks to you, I'm nothing now. Zero division won't even take me back thanks to Kurt leaking my bugging to the director. Because officially, the NSA can't be seen bugging other agencies, as if we haven't been doing it for years. So I have nothing."

Jane watched as the woman took another step forward, and then she waited. Just as she finished, Naz took her eyes off her for a second and Jane sprang into action.

She pushed off her knees, hands wrapping around the gun and twisting as hard as she could. The gun wrenched out of Naz grip, and Jane threw it as hard as she could to the opposite side of the room.

Then she pulled the woman close, even as she came out of shock enough to start fighting back. Jane knew her body wouldn't be able to take much of this, already her hands felt weaker so she knew she needed to act fast.

She ignored the nails digging into her skin, and the force of the punch to her still healing ribs. Instead she used all her might to pull Naz to the ground, one of her hands wrapping in the woman's hair as they went down. When they hit the ground with a crash, she pulled Naz's head back and slammed it into the ground.

She thought it would stun the woman, but instead it seemed to jump start her.

They started to wrestle for real, for every hit she gave it seemed she took two more, but unlike Naz she'd grown used to taking a beating.

Though her body weakened with every second they wrestled, she waited, her moment would come soon.

After she delivered a solid hit to Naz's face, breaking her nose even as she split the skin on her knuckles she knew it had come. Naz hesitated for just a moment, the pain overtaking her in a way that never would have happened to Jane, and Jane punched her again harder. Before wrapping her hand in Naz hair and slamming her head into the floor as she did in the beginning.

This time she slammed Naz's head down into the floor three times, until she felt the woman go limp beneath her, and then she slammed her head against the floor one last time to be sure.

She knew that adrenaline alone kept her going at this point, so she took full advantage of it. Pushing herself to her feet, and making a makeshift rope out of her sheets to tie Naz up until the team got back.

Just as she finished securing the woman, she heard people entering the apartment. She counted four different people shuffle in, and though she hoped they had returned she knew better than to believe it.

She spotted the gun just a few feet away, and quietly scrambled to grab it. Settling herself in a crouch behind the recliner Patterson had sat in early, aiming the gun at the door even as footsteps approached.

Though her hands shook, and she knew that very soon her body would collapse adrenaline alone not able to keep her going for much longer, she stared resolutely at the door as the knob turned and the door flung open.

When her eyes met the shocked eyes of Kurt, she almost cried in relief, but she didn't put the gun down. For some reason she now found that she couldn't.

Instead she merely looked at him before speaking quietly, voice trembling in tandem with her hands, "Is Patterson okay?"

Kurt nodded, slowly putting his gun away, and stepping into the room hands up, revealing Roman standing behind him.

"Jane, she's fine, you're fine, can you put the gun down for us?" Kurt asked, his voice low and calm. As if he were approaching an injured animal or a small child. She hated it.

Her eyes swung between the two men, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't let go of the gun, so she shook her head any words dying in her throat before she could speak them.

The two of them took a step towards her, but instinctively she brought the gun up even further. Fear, completely and totally irrational fear, crept up her spine, "Don't," She whispered.

Both men stopped in their tracks, and she saw them exchange worried glances. She didn't know if they were more worried by the gun or by what she knew she looked like. Naz hadn't gone down without a fight. Bitch.

Not that she needed any more bruises or cuts to add to her collection. Already, adrenaline started to fade and her body started to ache. She felt something slick on her side, and along her left leg. She'd probably opened up her stitched, and broken one of her many scabs in the tussle.

Her hands started to truly shake, and she knew soon the gun would fall from her fingers. But she still couldn't let it go. In fact, she realized, her whole body shook now, tears falling from her eyes.

Why?

Roman took another step closer, and Jane squeezed her eyes shut.

"Jane, I'm sorry I left you, but you're okay now. You beat her, you survived," Roman uttered those words like a prayer. They'd always been taught to survive. No matter what.

She heard him take another step, then another, until she felt his hands wrap around the gun and take it from her. She heard a click as he flicked the safety, then a clang as he dropped the clip out of the gun. Then she heard him toss it, it hit the ground somewhere in the room far away from them, and then suddenly arms were around her.

He pulled her into his arms, and she collapsed into his chest. The tremors growing stronger, until she felt she might vibrate out of her skin, and all her strength drained out of her replaced by an exhaustion so strong she could hardly comprehend it.

Distantly, she heard Kurt and Roman talking, Roman question how the fuck Naz had gotten here or why Jane hadn't been better protected. At some point Reade's voice entered the conversation, relaying that Zapata had accompanied Patterson to the hospital, but that the blonde appeared to be fine. Then telling Kurt that back-up would be here to take Naz away any minute.

Jane didn't want to be in this room anymore. She wasn't safe here.

She wasn't safe anywhere.

She curled further into Roman, the only person who could keep her safe. Patterson tried, but Jane knew that she kept Patterson safe from harm not the other way around. She tried not to feel as though she had failed the woman by not reacting sooner.

She knew she'd have plenty of time to torture herself over that later.

But for now she couldn't. Her body, and her fear won out.

She couldn't even identify why she felt so violated. Why she felt so affected by what had just happened.

Only that she did.

She had no idea how much time had passed before the sound of booted feet filled her ears. Then more voices entered the room, and the sound of shuffling told her that Naz was being taken away. She wondered if the woman had regained consciousness yet. But given the lack of raving she doubted it.

Eventually though the strangers voices retreated, and the apartment door closed.

Leaving Roman, Kurt and her alone. Reade had apparently gone with the people escorting Naz to try to figure out what had happened.

Some more time passed before someone broke the silence.

"Jane, what happened?" Kurt asked, from the sound of it he had settled somewhere to her left.

She took a deep breath trying to center herself, even as her brain tried to pull her back down, "Naz came to kill me, Patterson tried to stop her, but she couldn't. Then she came, and I stopped her," she forced herself to choke out the words.

"Do you really need to know this now? She needed to rest, look at her, she needs to be checked out and then left alone not interrogated after your girlfriend tried to kill her and Patterson." Roman barked, arms tightening against her.

Kurt took in a breath as if to argue but then released it, voice sounded tight and resigned as he responded, "Your right, Reade already called Shelby, she'll be here any minute to check Jane out." They'd agreed after her initial hospital stay to keep her out of them, she didn't do well in hospitals. She'd never liked them, but now she hated them.

Shelby had been her home-health nurse since her release from the hospital.

"Jane, can you stand?" Roman asked her

She wanted to say she could, hated herself for being so weak, but her limps felt like lead. So she answered honestly, "No."

"Okay, I'm going to pick you up and put you back in bed. Then Kurt and I are going to sit with you until the nurse comes, okay?"

She just nodded, not as if she could refuse anyway, the both of them were like guard dogs. She doubted she'd be allowed to shower alone now.

She bit back a yelp, when he picked her up, inadvertently touching one of her new found bruises. She wondered if there was an inch of her skin now that wasn't covered in a painful spot.

"I think I tore my stitches, and one of my scabs," She told him, knowing that her positioning had kept either of them from setting the blood, and her black sweatpants hide any blood that might have been visible.

"Okay," Roman replied calmly, though she saw him exchange a look with Kurt before Kurt disappeared out into the hall. She heard him talk, and knew he was calling Shelby again.

"We're going to have to get you out of that t-shirt, and your pants for Shelby. Is that okay?"

Again she nodded, he set her down on the bed, propping her up with one of his knees as he sat beside her, and then carefully started to remove her shirt.

She couldn't help but be thankful that for once she'd chosen to wear a sports bra. There were only so many times she could stand to be naked in front of them all.

When he had the shirt off, he lay her down and worked on getting her pants off. She closed her eyes, and let herself be thankful she had a brother. She didn't know if she could stand for anyone on the team or god forbid Shelby to be the ones wrestling off her clothing now that Patterson had been taken to the hospital.

She heard the apartment door opening, and Kurt greeting the arrival. Undoubtedly Shelby. Just in time too, she lay in her underwear and bra waiting for the woman to inspect her.

Though her brother didn't say anything about her state, she knew by the tight way he squeezed the hand he grabbed that the new additions did little to improve the state of her body.

An hour later, Shelby left, and she lay tucked into bed once more attached to the IV. A new set of stitched in her side, more pain meds, and a variety of band aids. As well as orders for strict bed rest, and further prodding about weaning off the IV.

Her exhaustion had now doubled, and she felt truly tired for the first time in a while. Her eyes like weights as she struggled to keep them open, still more afraid of what awaited her when she closed them than the sluggish tiredness that she would face if she refused to sleep.

"Jane, you need to sleep," Kurt murmured from her right, and from her left Roman echoed him.

She felt too tired to be anything but grateful to have two people in the room with her. But still she fought it.

Then Roman started to hum the lullaby her parents used to sing to them, and amazingly Kurt's baritone joined him.

Too soon, she found her eyes sealing shut and the darkness pulled her under.

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Jesus that was a long ass chapter!

This chapter is kind a of a transition chapter, I needed to get rid of Naz for once and for all. And honestly, I could totally see her falling off the edge if everything got taken away from her in one fell swoop! After this it's going to be A LOT of team bonding in the next two or three chapters, as well as some Sandstorm stuff!

My plan is within the next four chapters to have some of this resolve itself!

POLL for everyone!

Would you guys like to see me do a sequel that involves the sandstorm take down or have that arch finish in this story as well as Jane/the teams healing and recovery? Because this point I'm tempted to finish this story off with Jane healing and recovering, building back a relationship with the team, and having Roman add himself strongly to the dynamic. Then have a sequel where they take down sandstorm.

But I'm open to either possibility, so let me know what you think!

As always lots and lots of LOVE,

FALLEN 3


	12. Chapter 12

Hey guys,

Long time no see! I know but I started back up in nursing school, which is already CRAZY! But hopefully the length of this chapter helps appease you guys! I know some of this might seem a little out of character, especially since Jane is a bit more talkative than she has been being. But I think she's repressed things for so long that they're starting to leak out.

And Dr. Borden, is good at provoking her, getting her to say more than she might have otherwise. Also, Jane has come to accept that she has to at least pretend to cooperate with him and the others if she has any hope of getting back to work and away from Kurt's apartment.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and as always I LOVE LOVE LOVE all of you, your reviews, favorites, and follows inspire me to continue to write and be better every day!

-Fallen

The next time Jane opened her eyes, warm sunlight streamed into the window as the sun rose behind her, and the smell of coffee tickled her nose. For a second she closed her eyes and tried to imagine that she'd woken up in the time before.

Tried to imagine a world where none of this had happened, and she had gotten a chance to be happy.

But she could only pictures mirrors, an elegant tan hand pushing her to her knees, and the vivid smell of her own flesh burning.

She knew better than to think she could dream.

"Jane? Are you awake?"

Her eyes shot open, her head snapping to the left to look at the man sitting placidly in a chair besides her bed. She ignored the flash of pain at the sudden movement, instead concentrating on keeping her face empty and controlled.

"I didn't think you'd be here for another few days?" Jane forced herself to ask, she'd realized days ago that she needed to submit to him. To talk to him. To prove that she could get better. To prove she belonged back in the field.

Didn't mean she needed to tell him everything. But careful truths among the lies would only help her cause.

"Kurt, and Roman, thought after what happened yesterday afternoon that it might be a good idea for me to come to see you early Jane. I have to say I'm glad they called, how are you feeling after the events of yesterday?" Dr. Borden asked her, his eyes roving her face as if he could detect every micro-expression that might give her away. He always made her feel as if she'd been laid bare, exposed, and vulnerable, unsure if he wanted to protect her or hurt her.

These days she didn't think she could trust anyone. Trust only earned her pain in the end.

"Sore," She replied, a smirk forcing its way to her face, a parody of a laugh clawing out of her throat, "Sore and tired."

He smiled, "I would be surprised if you didn't feel that way, but I think we both know that wasn't what I was referring to."

The smirk faded from her face, and it took all her energy not to look away from his burning gaze, "I don't know how I feel, I didn't even know Naz had been taken off the team. I might have been better prepared if I'd been told about it."

"Do you feel that the team betrayed you by not telling you? That they withheld information that might have helped to protect you?"

She did turn away then, trying to hide the way his words hit that dark, terrible place inside her. Because she did, she felt betrayed and belittled. They told her nothing, coddling her while they force fed her their apologies and regrets. Leaving her defenseless and stranded without a way to call for help while they did whatever they felt they had to.

But in truth that only touched the surface, this wasn't the first time they'd betrayed her. Abandoned her to a situation where she ended up hurt, broken, and beaten. No, the more she thought about it the more the anger burned under her skin.

They were supposed to be a team but what had they done for her? She'd laid down her life more than once for them, was actively betraying her only living family for them, been tortured and mutilated for them. Because of them.

Still, she forced herself to lie, even as the words scalded her throat, "No, I just wish they would have told me. I'm not weak, and I don't need to be coddled."

She turned back just in time to see Dr. Borden giving her an assessing look, she could tell he didn't believe her, "I don't think anyone would ever think you weak Jane, you've survived things that would break most people and come back stronger than ever. Have you considered that the team might have thought they were protecting you?"

She scoffed, unable to stop herself, "Protect me? When have they ever protected me?" Hell they could barely even stand her since her return, "I don't need protection, not from them and not from anyone."

"I know it will be hard to believe Jane, but they do care about you. I think they wanted to avoid upsetting you, when you're still healing from what happened to you. I think it's easy to imagine that they've done everything out of a desire to exclude you, but they too were traumatized by what happened last week. Have you considered that they might be reacting to their own trauma by being overprotective?"

This time true anger surged to the surface, her voice rising against her will, "Their trauma? What having to actually see it happened suddenly made them feel bad for Jane the betrayer? Three days is nothing compared to what I went through for _three months_ with the CIA. Yet when I came back all they could do is berate me and belittle me. As if I didn't punish myself hard enough, as if three month in hell didn't teach me enough of a lesson they felt they needed to prove exactly how despicable and disgusting I was to them. I'm sorry they had to see something that might have hurt them, but they weren't the ones drowning or burning or feel electricity shooting through their veins."

She wanted to scream at him, but her throat felt raw already. By the end her voice cracked and broke against the words battering their way to the surface.

Dr. Borden looked a little shell shocked, but also satisfied, and Jane realized she'd fallen for his trap. She'd revealed so much more than she wanted to because he'd baited her. Still she found she wanted to say more.

She wanted to get out of bed, find the team and scream at them. To dig her nails into their skin and shred their skin till they felt an ounce of the pain she had.

She didn't want to be here any longer, she didn't want to look at them again, talk to them again. She wanted them to go. She wanted to be alone to lick her wounds in piece before going back to work as if she weren't slowing dying inside.

Hell they'd let her do that for months since her return to the FBI. She didn't understand why they wanted to care now.

"I know that must have been hard for you Jane, but it's important that you open up. Not just to me but to the team. There cannot be any healing for anyone of you if you can't be honest with each other. You know that you are not beyond healing, don't you Jane?"

Sometimes she wanted to smash his face in, his calm, unaffected demeanor a bitter pill against her own inability to calm the demons inside herself, "Do you really think I can come back from this Dr.?" She asked him, practically spitting his name out.

"Yes Jane, I do," He always sounded so self-assured, so confident in his words. But he couldn't see inside her, despite his best attempts. He couldn't see the chasm that had formed inside her, broken, and bleeding a constantly worsening wound that she knew could never be fixed.

"Do you know what I think would help me?" She asked him, trying to regain some semblance of control.

He shook his head, "No Jane, what do you think would help you?"

She leaned forward, ignoring the pull of her stitches, "Going back to work, doing something, other than sitting on this bed listening to platitudes and sympathy from people who've never cared before. Being in a place where I feel safe, instead of sitting here trapped and unprotected. Being given back my gun, my badge, a cell phone, and the keys to my safe house."

Dr. Borden watched her quietly as she spoke, his expression never changing as she listed off her demands. But when she stopped, he too leaned forward, his hands folding in his lap as he looked at her, "I think you're right, being without your gun, and a cellphone leaves you vulnerable. But Jane, do you understand why they might not want to give you back your gun?"

He ignored the rest of her demands, but she figured if she answered he might comment on the rest, "They think I'm a danger, they don't trust me to have a gun where they feel safe, and unguarded."

He shook his head, "No Jane, because they worry that if they gave you a gun you might turn it on yourself. You've been through unspeakable horrors Jane, is it wrong of them to worry that you might seek a permanent escape from it all?"

She stared at him, she'd wished for death, but she could never hurt herself. Not when there were so many people who willing to do it for her. Between sandstorm, the CIA, her own team, and who knows how many people she'd hurt as Remi, she doubted it would be hard to find someone if she looked.

"Yes, I'm not suicidal," She told him firmly.

"Are you sure? Because it seems to me since you returned to the FBI you've had a bit of a death wish, your sense of self-preservation appears to be completely depleted. In reading briefs from your missions, even your teammates, who you claim care little for you noted it. While I don't believe you'd turn your gun on yourself, that doesn't mean I think you're not a danger to yourself."

Again she scoffed, "If they truly cared, why didn't they ever say anything? They let me agree to the sandstorm mission, and to every other mission since. They've never cared that I threw myself into everything, or when I got hurt as a result. They only cared whether or not I'd put a bullet in their backs at the first opportunity."

"So, you do think that you've been reckless since your return?"

"That's not what I said."

"Isn't it?" He asked, his voice as calm as ever.

"No, I just said that if they felt that way they never made any objections to what they asked me to do or what I did for them."

He nodded, "Yes, but in your own wording you implied that you recognized the inherent danger to yourself. Yet, you seemed unbothered by the risk merely that they recognized it and said nothing."

She glared, "Of course I recognize the risk, this job is nothing but risks. That doesn't mean I'm not trying to get out of it alive."

He merely looked at her, pursing his lips and sitting back before he replied, "Are you trying to get out alive Jane? Because it seems to me that you've felt from the beginning that you weren't coming back from this."

His words hit her like a bucket of cold water, her anger draining away replaced by weariness, "I've been operating on borrowed time since I stepped out of that bag in Times Square. But expecting to die and wanting to can be two different things, can't they?"

Not that she didn't want to die, but he didn't need to know that.

"They can be but in this case I don't think they are. Jane, I can only help you if you're honest with me, and I do want to help you."

She felt tears pricking the corner of her eyes, and so she sealed them shut as if she could block his words, "I'm trying to be," She whispered back.

But honesty wouldn't save her.

Nothing could.

A knock at the door interrupted any further conversation, and she opened her eyes in time to see Kurt opening the door a tray in his hands, "Sorry to interrupt, but Jane I brought you breakfast."

The smell hit Jane's nose, and as always it took everything she had not to puke. Her eyes roving the plate, what looked to be broth, a watery yogurt, a glass of water and a cup of tea lay on the plate. She looked up at Kurt briefly, and he looked apologetic.

"Shelby wants to start initiating the weaning process, so she wants us to start introducing more food. I'm sorry Jane, but we have to start you on a liquid diet. Yogurt is the closest thing to real food we can give you until your stomachs had time to adjust to real food again."

She forced herself not to frown, "Its fine," She told him quietly, pushing herself into a more comfortable sitting position as he brought the tray over, and set it on the table he'd bought to allow her to eat without getting out of bed.

"Agent Weller, I think you've chosen a perfect time to come in, I need to speak with Jane and you about something." Dr. Borden spoke, and Jane's eyes immediately flickered to him.

Kurt nodded, "Okay. What is it?"

"I think that Jane, you might benefit from having a session with the team. I think none of you will be able to more forward until you are able to be honest about your feelings about each other. There are many thing left unspoken between you all, and its hampering my ability to help Jane. So, I would like to conduct a group therapy session with the team, what do you think?"

Jane couldn't get her answer out fast enough, and she practically upturned her tray in her vehement denial, "That's a terrible idea."

But even as she said it Kurt, responded with the opposite reaction, "I think it would be a good idea, we should have done this months ago, we might not have found ourselves here if we had."

Jane turned her head to look at him in shock, "You can't be serious?" She asked him, feeling that same anger flooding through her again.

"I can and I am, Jane, we are supposed to be a team. But we've hurt each other over and over again in the last few months. If we're going to take down sandstorm we need to be able to be honest with each other."

She shook her head, "I don't want to do that."

Dr. Borden chimed in again, "Jane, I don't think you can be a functioning member of the team unless you do this. I cannot recommend you for return unless I feel that you are capable of being a functional member of the team." The I-don't-think-you-currently-are, went unsaid.

But still Jane read the threat in his words, he wouldn't let her go back to work unless she agreed to do this. Again her free will, her own wants, meant nothing, so she simply looked away, "Fine."

She tuned them out after that, forcing herself to sip at her water, her throat tightening at each intrusion. Her breath trying to quicken in response to its perceived threat, but she forced herself to remain calm. Picking up the spoon, she took small slurps of the chicken broth, even as the saltiness reminded her of the coopery taste of her own blood in her mouth.

They continued to talk around her, but she continued to ignore them. They never cared what she thought anyway, so what was the point in her paying attention. She had nothing to contribute.

Sometime passed, she'd manage to choke down half her glass of water, a quarter of the soup and yogurt and a few sips of her tea. But her stomach felt like it would burst if she forced another drop down her throat. So she put the spoon down and refocused.

"Is my session over?" she asked, "I want to talk to Roman and Patterson."

Dr. Borden assessed her, "I think we've made significant progress for today, but I'll be back tomorrow for the group session. I want you to try and think of what you want to say to the members of your team Jane."

She merely nodded, forcing herself not to roll his eyes as the doctor stood and exited the room leaving her alone with Kurt.

"Jane," Kurt stopped, running his hand down his face as he took a seat on the bed by her feet, she tried to hide her instinct to recoil from his frame, "Roman is gone."

"What do you mean gone?" She demanded, pushing away the table with her food on it, and moving to get out of bed, "What did you do to him?"

"Jane, stop, please, we didn't do anything to him," Kurt tried to assure her, hands coming up to hover in front of her as if to stop her from moving, "I promise we didn't hurt him, Shepard called him back and he had to go in order to avoid suspicion. He's going to tell her about your injury in our latest case, and give you a cover for your absence."

She stilled, her baby brother gone back to the vipers nest and she hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Something of her feeling must have shown on her face, because Kurt seemed even more weighed down that he normally did as he spoke, "Jane, the call came shortly after we got you to sleep yesterday, he didn't want to wake you after what happened. But he promised to be back, and unlike you Shepard trust him. He'll be able to communicate with us regularly."

She wouldn't feel better until she saw him for herself, until she could put her hands on him and reassure herself that he hadn't been a figment of her imagination, "Patterson?"

"She got released from the hospital a few hours ago, she had a minor concussion and two bruised ribs from her fight with Naz. But she said she's coming back over to stay with you once she takes a showers and changes."

At least Jane would be able to lay her eyes on Patterson soon, she needed to reassure herself that the blonde hadn't been hurt trying to protect her.

As if sensing that she didn't want to speak, Kurt stood, "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner Jane, we should have kept anything from you, and I'll do better from now on."

She wondered then if he'd overheard her earlier outburst, "its fine Kurt."

He hesitated as he went to leave, "Are you done with breakfast?"

She nodded, and tried to give him a pleasant look as he came to grab her tray, "Thank you."

"Of course," He responded without hesitation, a careful smile on his face as he nodded once more before he left the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'll send Patterson in as soon as she gets here. The rest of us will be in the living room if you need anything."

As soon as he left, she settled back against the pillows, and stared up at the ceiling. Her fingers itched for a pencil for just a moment, as she imagined what she'd paint on the empty white surface above her. She hadn't wanted to draw since she'd gotten back but there in that moment she did. She wanted to paint her feelings, her fears, above her.

She let her eyes rove the ceiling, brushing imaginary lines of charcoal across the cold white. She imagined rubbing shading in between the slashing black lines, and the feel of paper and pencil against the pads of her finger tips.

She let that occupy her, distracting from the onslaught of darkness constantly pressing against her when they left her to her own devices.

Sometime later she heard the front door open, soft voices exchanging greetings, before footsteps whispered across the hallway floor nearing her door.

Even as the door opened, and Patterson's delicate floral scent caressed her nose she couldn't tear her eyes from the ceiling. Suddenly afraid to look upon the friend she'd failed to protect. Again the bitter bite of tears pricked her eyes, and she felt second away from weeping. Though she couldn't quite identify where this weakness originated from.

"Jane, are you alright?" Patterson's voice, always such a soft contradiction to the pain that grasped her, and the anguish that had blackened her soul. Jane almost wished she could hate the woman, for the way she made her feel as if she weren't alone in the fleeting moments they spend together. In the end, it only made her more aware of how lonely she was without her.

But she forced herself to look at the blonde, blinking away the tears as she took in the woman in front of her, "I'm fine, I should be the one asking you that question," She replied, taking in the dark purple bruising around her left eyes, the stitching on her temple, and the dark bruising on her neck.

The weight of her failure hit her like a brick. She'd allowed Patterson to take a beating for her, unable to make herself rise from bed when her friend needed her.

"You shouldn't have fought her," She couldn't help but say, looking away at the last moment, unable to bear looking at the damage she'd allowed to happen.

She heard Patterson's feet approach the bed, and felt the mattress shift as Patterson settled herself beside her hips. But she still flinched at the gentle touch of hands on her arm, "Jane, I would have fought an army to keep you safe. I'm sorry that I couldn't stop her, she took me by surprise and got past my guard too easily." She couldn't stand the self-loathing she heard in the blonde's voice.

She shook her head, "I don't deserve your protection, I'm the one who should have kept you safe," she made herself turn to look the blonde in the eyes. Trying not to flinch as she again took in the bruising marring her delicate skin.

Tears flooding Patterson's eyes as she listened to Jane speak, "Jane, you deserve to be protected, to feel safe. Please, tell me you understand that? You've always kept me safe, and the one time I needed to keep you safe I failed. I'm so sorry."

Jane hated the way her words affected her, didn't Patterson see how disgusting she was? She didn't deserve protection or safety. Patterson was good, honest, and kind, she deserved to be protected from the darkness in the world that Jane had made her home.

"I never should have let her in, but I was so sure the team had gotten back I didn't even look. I'll be better Jane, I won't do that again," Everyone seemed to want to be better, but Jane didn't deserve better.

"You couldn't have known," Jane tried to assure her, "You don't have the training that we do," she didn't have that ingrained sense of mistrust and paranoia either. Jane hoped she never would.

Patterson shook her head, stray tears falling down her cheek unchecked, "I've been training with Tasha and you for months now. I should have known better, I really should have, please tell me you accept my apology Jane."

She could see that Patterson needed to hear it, "Patterson, there's nothing to forgive, you have no reason to be sorry. But I accept your apology."

Patterson visibly deflated, her eyes looking just a touch less haunted than they had before, "One day, Jane, I'll make you see how much you mean to us. When I woke up in that hospital, I took one look at Tasha's face and thought you were dead. Do you know how terrible that felt? To imagine that you were gone because I hadn't done my job?" Patterson truly sounded anguished, more tears falling freely down her face.

Jane made herself reach out and take Patterson's hands, even as the touch burned her skin, "But I didn't die Patterson, I'm still here, and if you hadn't of bought me time I might not be. You can't blame yourself, Naz has years of training and manipulation against you. You stood your ground for as long as you could."

Patterson nodded, but Jane could tell she didn't entirely believe her yet.

She released the woman's hands with one last squeeze, and then looked at her with a forced smile, "But enough of that, tell me another story, I've been bored all day."

She thought for a second Patterson might continue to apologize or try to keep talking about it. But after a second the blonde straightened, a smile forcing its way to her cheeks, as she agreed.

They both fell into her story head first, more tales of baby Patterson and the trouble she got herself into.

For the time being, Jane felt something akin to peace, even as guilt fell heavy into her stomach. She let herself get washed away by Patterson's voice, her mind again conjuring up the images to match the story.

For a moment she could be someone else.

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POLLLLLLLLLLLL TIME! J

Okay, so for the next chapter I have a few questions, as this will be the group therapy chapter, expect a lot of things to come out. But I want to know what your guys thoughts are on what should come to light during the session:

1\. Should Zapata reveal that she'd been working with the DA and the CIA to take down Mayfair and Jane?

2\. Should Kurt have to admit to Jane and the team that he knew about Naz bugging the FBI building and listening in on their therapy sessions?

3\. Should Reade and Zapata's involvement in Coach Jones murder be mention at all?

4\. Should Jane tell them the entirety of her feelings about them?

5\. Should Jane reveal to the team what Naz told her about the direct being directly responsible for her time with the CIA to begin with?


End file.
